As Black As Night
by Roses and Lavender
Summary: The House of Black still stands. The House of Black will always stand. But what happened after Hallowe'en 1981? Dynastic feuds, family politics and maybe, just maybe, a hope which can be found in the dark of night, and the darkest of hearts. Not your typical Sirius-has-a-daughter story. Rated M. Complete.
1. The End and the Beginning

**I do not own Harry Potter, everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. **

**Also, this story will be the Harry Potter series told from the perspective of the House of Black (and Malfoy). However, it is also a story of personal growth and development. The over-riding arc of the story will be challenging of the members' prejudices and faults. The story is, nevertheless, rated M. It is not aimed at younger readers, and please do respect this. **

**Additionally, this story will eventually include all of the House of Black. However, as it focuses around a core cast of characters, some take longer to emerge than others. So, if you are waiting for the likes of Andromeda, Tonks, Bellatrix etc. you may have to be patient after this first chapter! : )**

**I hope you enjoy the story...**

Chapter One

On the morning of 1st November, 1981, wizarding Britain awoke to the news that the dark shadow, under which they had all been living for so many years, was lifted.

Lord Voldemort was no more.

Harry Potter was the Boy-Who-Lived.

And the House of Black was in tatters.

...

Sirius Black pushed his hair back from his face. He squinted in the morning sunlight. He had a smear of ash across his left cheek, from visiting the wreckage of his best friend's home in the earliest hours of that morning.

What he found there would haunt him until his dying die.

And he wanted revenge.

He raised his hand to shield his eyes from the sun.

And that was when he saw him.

He saw him and he laughed.

"Good morning, Peter."

...

Irma Black was eating her breakfast alone that morning. Her sister-in-law was an early riser, and had already been in the library for many hours.

It was a house elf who bought her the news that sent her teacup and saucer and spoon clattering to the floor. The china smashed at her feet, and the pale brown liquid ran along the marble floor.

Their cause was lost.

...

Bellatrix Lestrage screamed like a wounded animal, when she heard the news. She screamed like one with a moral wound, like one with a broken heart.

But she would not fail him.

She would serve him until the sky fell in.

In her horror and her grief she wailed and roared, tore at her hair and her clothing.

And then she was calm. She stroked the wood of her wand and knew that she could still do the Dark Lord's work.

And one day, he would reward her.

...

Andromeda Tonks clutched her daughter close to her, tears streaming down her face. The little girl's hair changed from pink, to orange to green. She looked across the room at her husband, who had sunk down into his armchair in shock and relief.

"It can't believe it's over," he said, "I can't believe we survived."

She laughed suddenly, "But it is. It finally is."

He looked up at her and smiled. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Andromeda would be crying again by the end of the day, when she found out what her favourite cousin Sirius had done.

But for those few, brief hours, her life was perfect.

...

Druella Black already knew the truth, before it was told to her, before the house elf appeared, bearing its master's wand.

"Master Cygnus wished to spare you, ma'am."

Of course he did, she thought bitterly.

But that was what she would tell herself too, rather than the truth she knew in her heart of hearts; that her husband could not face Azkaban.

...

Narcissa Malfoy stroked the silky, silver-blonde hair of her darling son. She had not been able to sleep well the night before, though she could not imagine way. Perhaps the thinning of the veil between the worlds had disturbed her. Now, the dawn sunlight streamed through the damask curtain. She and her son were flooded in a pool of rosy light.

He turned in his sleep and tightened his grip on her finger. His skin was so soft, so perfect.

The door opened and her ashen-faced husband staggered into the room. He dragged his feet heavily, clumsily, and lost his balance, falling against the wall.

Narcissa ran to him and he pulled her tightly against his chest, holding her head in the palm of his hand and gripping her hair as if for strength.

She looked up at him, "Lucius, darling, what's happened?"

...

Cassiopeia Black paced the floor of her library. She paused at the window, straight-backed and proud. The years had aged her, but they had not bent or broken her. Her blue eyes were as sharp and piercing as they ever were.

She would weather this storm. She was a Black. She could weather any storm.

But thank Salazar that Pollox had not lived to see this day. Though how she wished Dorea were still here.

But she could not dwell on that now.

It had all fallen apart, and she had to pick up the pieces.

The House of Black would last as long as there were stars in the sky.

...

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black was, like the fragments of the Dark Lord's soul, ripped apart on the night of Hallowe'en, 1981.

Children were left behind, their parents dead or in Azkaban. Siblings were torn apart, lost to each other through love and war. Widowed dowagers and spinster sisters locked themselves away in bitter and gilded prisons of their own making.

So this is the story of the House of Black.

This is a story of lies.


	2. What's Left When It's All Over

**I do not own Harry Potter, sadly. I've only written this for fun. :) **

**Reviews would be lovely and thank you for reading! **

Chapter Two

Albus Dumbledore carefully placed the little boy on the ground and firmly tucked a letter into his blankets. He sighed heavily. He had never wanted this to happen. He had put every protection in place. He had done everything he could have done to save the poor Potters. Yet it had not been enough. He felt much older than he had ever felt before in his life.

The baby reached out towards Dumbledore's beard – as he had always done – and Dumbledore slowly reached down and took the small, pudgy hands in his own and wrapped them back up. A single tear rolled down his long nose.

"Good bye Harry Potter, and good luck."

He turned around and walked away, unable to turn around when he heard the small child cry. Each step he took felt like a curse. Yet this was the only way. Lily would forgive him, one day, he was sure, for what he had done to her son. Minerva was furious; the poor boy would never be happy with the Durselys. Yet the boy had to be kept safe, he had to be kept alive and Merlin's beard there was nothing else he could do. Minerva was still waiting for him at the end of the darkened street. "How could you do that, Albus? How could you?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I only do it, because I have to."

"You don't have to. Any wizarding family would take him – anyone in the Order would take him. We could keep him safe! We could raise him so he would be happy! You know what those people are!" Her eyes blazed. "How could you do this?"

"No one else will be able to keep him as safe as his mother's love. The Death Eaters won't be able to touch him here. That is why we must do this."

She clutched her throat and turned away. "They were barely out of Hogwarts." Her shoulders shook slightly.

Dumbledore nodded slowly. All of them had barely been out of Hogwarts and yet it had come to this already. The class he had watched graduate barely a few years before were now cold and buried beneath the ground, or would be soon.

Mary McDonald had been the first to go.

Fabian and Gideon Prewett had followed, not long after.

Hester Sinclair, a few years older than the rest, a muggleborn. One witch alone was not enough to protect her entire family.

Dorcas Meadows, the most talented witch in her year. Flitwick's smile had never reached his eyes for months after the Lestrange's had got to her.

Matthew Brown.

Edna Diggory, and her children. Her husband was still in St Mungo's.

Edgar Bones.

Marlene McKinnon.

And then Lily and James Potter.

And he'd thought they would be the last. He thought, at least, that it was finally over. If they had to die, at least they would be the last ones.

Until he'd heard about poor, foolish Peter Pettigrew just a few hours ago. All that they found of him was his finger.

Minerva reached out and touched his arm. "We should go, there's nothing else we can do here."

He flicked the switch on the deluminator and little balls of light floated back to their resting places. "Yes, we need to get back to Hogwarts. Remus will be waiting for us."

He held out his hand, which she clasped tightly, and together they vanished. Harry Potter was left, all alone, on a doorstep at the dead of night. Another orphan of Voldemort's war.

...

Remus Lupin paced the floor of Dumbledore's study. He knew exactly how many steps would take him from one side to the other, but he couldn't find it in him to stop. He couldn't stop. Physically, he couldn't stop. He couldn't sit still. It must be the wolf in him, he thought, because all he wanted to do was scream and roar and tear this stupid room, the stupid school, this stupid world apart because it felt like it was falling down around him and her couldn't even cry.

The baby on the desk – the demon on the desk – could cry. She brawled her lungs out as if she'd never stop, but no, he, he Remus Lupin, who in just one day had lost everything, absolutely everything, couldn't find a single tear.

But if he tore the world apart, at least the world would have to stop and listen. Oh yes, they all simpered, they all murmured, about the great tragedy, the great loss to the wizarding world, but they didn't mean it. They didn't really care. Who were Lily and James Potter to them, when You-Know-Who was finally gone?

With a quiet pop Dumbledore and McGonagall stood before him. McGonagall rushed across and bundled the crying child into her arms, rocking her gently until she finally became quiet and peered out of her blankets, as if she knew the grown-ups were about to decide her fate.

"I won't have her." Remus spat. "I know what you're going to say and I won't. I don't care what you have to say, I won't take her. She looks just like him. I won't take her."

Dumbledore walked over to his desk and sank into his armchair. "You might change your mind, in a few days."

"Do you think I'll forgive _him_ in a few days?" Remus yelled. His hands shook and he gripped the other side of Dumbledore's desk for support. The world was falling down around him. If only he could forget, if only he could laugh, as _he_ had laughed.

"Remus," whispered McGonagall, "she's just a child. She's a baby. You're her godfather."

"I'm a half-breed, a filthy half-breed, do you really think he'd want me to raise his precious, pureblood daughter?"

"She was Marlene's as well. Marlene made you her godfather. Where else can the child go?"

"She doesn't look anything like Marlene."

Dumbledore rubbed his temples. "It doesn't matter how she looks. It doesn't matter who her father or her mother was. It is love that will nurture her and watch her grow. She will not be her-"

"She will be like him!" He roared, the tears finally spilling over. The baby squirmed and started to cry as well, not liking the noise. She had never heard her Uncle Remus make noises like that before. She was old enough to understand that something was horribly, horribly wrong with all the people in the room who usually loved to play with her so much.

"They all turn out the same!"

"You loved her this morning!"

"I don't love her anymore!" Remus gripped the table tighter, his knuckles turning white. Sobs racked his body.

"You don't mean that." McGonagall whispered.

He shook his head, refusing to answer. What had happed to the world? He had fed her, just this morning. He had changed her, just this morning. But then the world had changed and fallen apart. "Isn't there _anyone_ else?"

...

"Is Remus going to come?"

Dumbledore looked over at Minerva. It was good of her to come, very few would have done. Perhaps, then, this proved that he was doing the right thing for this child. Who else would take her, if they knew her father was? He shuddered at the thought of exactly the type of people who would take her. No decent wizarding family, though it pained him to admit it, would want the girl. It would have to be her family who would take her, and all the McKinnon's were dead. Every single one of them except her. And the Blacks... well, most of them were gone as well, or on the run. The Malfoys seemed to be settling themselves well again already, no surprises there, but he couldn't give her to them. These were the only people who would take her, who could pass her off as their own, and who would _understand._

"No, at least, I don't believe he will. I haven't heard from him for a few weeks."

"None of us have."

"Have you been to see Frank and Alice?"

She nodded, "Their poor son."

"He still has his grandmother."

"Maybe that will bring Remus back? He was close to them as well. He might go and see them?"

"He won't. There's nothing that can be done for them and it would be too painful. It might even keep him away for longer."

"We'll try and find him later, he's lost everything and we can't let him stagger around the world, alone and grieving. It's not right."

Together they walked up to the large, sandstone house, deep in the Somerset countryside. It was both secluded and stately, with more miles of walled parklands than even Dumbledore could remember. This would be the best thing for the child, she would grow up in safety with her family, who wouldn't judge her, who knew enough of the wizarding world to understand, and were yet enough removed from it that by the time she was ready to join them again, the storm would have died down, somewhat.

...

Marius Black stood firmly next to the window, his hands clasped behind his back, glaring at the witch and wizard making their way up his long, gravelled drive. They hadn't even tried to dress normally. His hair was solidly grey, like iron, as were his eyes. His suit was crisp, cut and sewn for him on Jermyn Street, just off Piccadilly. It had been a long time since he had had anything to do with the wizarding world, and he was not at all pleased that now, in his advancing years, it was coming back to meddle in his private affairs once again.

He had been thrown out of the wizarding world, unceremoniously, at the age of 11. His parents, after years of hoping, finally gave up and admitted to themselves that they had produced a Squib. At 11 years old, he knew that he was his family's greatest shame. For all the cheats, backstabbers and murderers the Blacks had produced over the years, he was and always would be the darkest of the family's secrets. His parents, at least, and been pitying enough to pay for him to have a good life in the muggle world. They had transferred a significant sum of galleons into a muggle bank and shipped him off to the finest educational establishments – Westminster, Cambridge, followed by some postgraduate studies at Yale. He had risen very well in the muggle world, where the name Black now carried almost – almost – as much weight as it did in the wizarding one. He had long since become tired of his financial enterprises and had retired to the country with his wife, a muggle.

He had had little to do with his family from 11, seeing only his siblings in the holidays, and even then there had been a distance between them. After he left for university, contact has fallen away entirely. He had married a muggle woman and done his best to forget the life he should have had. He had always refused to start a family, the fear that the child would be magical was too much for him to bear. And yet a magical child, an infamous magical child, was about to become his ward. And his wife still didn't know the truth.

Caroline Black, sat on the other side of the room. Her hair was a lighter shade than her husband, although it was clear that she, too, was getting older. Her youth was behind her, to say the least. It unnerved her, to see her husband so... tense. He was never tense, never stressed. They had met at university – she had been the captain of the Girton Ladies' Cricket Team whilst he had captained the men from Trinity Hall. He had always walked as though he knew he had the world at his feet. They'd married the same year they graduated and she'd followed him diligently around the world since them. She was from a different era when that was simply what one did. Yet she wasn't sure what to make of this new announcement – that they were to adopt a child. Apparently the child was an orphaned, distant relative of his, but he had always told her that he didn't have any family, none at all. It wasn't as though she was opposed to having a child, but she didn't like the feeling that she was being left in the dark.

She placed her copy of Tatler down on the mahogany coffee table, "Are they here yet?"

"They're walking up the drive."

"And how is she related to us again?"

"She's my niece, great niece, of sorts." They had the same surname, and that was all that mattered.

"Did you know about her before this?"

"No dear, I didn't know she existed."

He turned sharply and began to pace the floor. He had a terrible, terrible feeling that this meeting was not going to go well. It was not going to go well at all.

And then the doorbell rang.

...

**Reviews please.**


	3. For Love of a Child

**Once again, I don't own Harry Potter. **

**Reviews would be lovely and I hope you're enjoying this so far. This one is a little longer than before, but it seemed silly to try and split in into separate chapters when it all happened at the same time. **

**Thank you for my one review at the time of writing! : ) I thought about sending her to an orphanage, but I couldn't see Dumbledore doing that. The daughter of a now infamous dark wizard and mass-muggle murderer? Nope, she'd have to be somewhere where he can drop in and keep an eye on her...**

Chapter Three

Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall sat on one side of the coffee table, in a smaller drawing room nearer the back of the house. On the other side sat Marius and Caroline Black, the latter already rocking the little girl in her arms. As yet, none of them had said a word. Marius Black stared at Dumbledore, his jaw tight.

Caroline glanced nervously at her fuming husband and quickly back across the table where the two strangers sat. She had never had much experience with social services before, but this was not what she had imaged.

"Does she have a name?" She asked, looking more at the woman than the man.

McGonagall looked at the baby sadly, "Annie Black. It was short for Annabelle. Marlene named her for her sister." Caroline frowned; the poor woman looked as if she was holding back a flood of tears. Surely that wasn't normal? Marius had said that they were just delivering the child. They were just the social workers.

"Oh, Annie is a pretty name, isn't it sweetheart?" She gazed down at the child. She had Marius' eyes and holding her seemed oddly... right, even if it had come a little late in life. Perhaps the maternal instinct never really goes away.

Marius snorted, which wasn't like him at all, she thought. "He called her Annie?"

The man – he had introduced himself as Dumbledore – nodded. "Your nephew broke with a number of family traditions." Was it her, or did he look uncomfortable?

"But not the biggest of them."

The woman visibly flinched at that. Dumbledore answered though, calmly enough. "No, not in the end, he didn't."

Caroline sucked in her lips, there was definitely something she hadn't been told and she suspected it was something important. However, she had no desire to start and argument with her husband in front of these strangers, however strange they were. And she certainly didn't want them to think she was rude. She frowned at looked at all of them again.

"Mrs. Black, I'm afraid that the story of this poor little girl is rather a long one and I'm afraid there is a lot your husband hasn't told you- "

"Now see here, Dumbledore, I don't care what you have to say, but you are not about to terrorise my wife!" He jabbed his finger at him across the table.

Caroline turned to Marius, "I thought you didn't know this man?"

Marius put his head in his hands for a moment before looking back up at his wife. "My dear, I am terribly, terribly sorry, but I have been keeping something from you for a very long time. If it were not for these people and that child, I never would have told you this." Caroline held the baby tighter against her chest. Something horrible was about to happen. "Perhaps, dear, you had better had the child back to Professor McGonagall for a moment, as all of this might come as quite a shock."

Wordlessly, she handed to child back to the woman – McGonagall, was she a professor now? – and stared at her husband. Her lips were pursed and inwardly, he began to squirm. His wife rarely gave him that look and it was always bad news for him when she did. Dumbledore leant back in his chair as if he were about to watch some sort of delightful show, and McGonagall glared at him disapprovingly.

"My dear, the lady and gentleman here are not like... us. Professor Dumbledore is a wizard and Professor McGonagall is a witch."

"Marius, I really don't think that the private practices of these people, be they Wiccans, or New Age Pagans, or..." she glanced at them nervously as if she dreaded to give offence, "are really any of our-"

"Please, dear, I need to finish the story." Caroline closed her lips in a thin line and nodded at him to continue. "They are really a witch and a wizard and they can do real magic." He looked at her face – which looked furious – and sighed wearily.

He gestured to Dumbledore who pulled out his wand and smiled kindly at her. "I'm afraid this will all come as something of a shock, so perhaps a spot of tea is in order." And with that he waved his wand and a full tea set – Wentworth – appeared before them. The tea pot began to pour Earl Grey tea into each cup. A slice of lemon floated in behind them. Each silver teaspoon jumped to attention and began to stir the tea, three times exactly. "Do you take sugar in your tea, Mrs. Black?"

Caroline clutched her heart, open mouthed, and shook her head. She turned back to her husband. Her face was rather pale, and a little green. "Is this a joke?"

"I'm afraid not, my dear."

"Can you do that?" She still hoped that this would all be an elaborate joke, although if it was a joke, she was going to have to divorce her husband for becoming so unutterably strange and twisted overnight.

He shook his head. It seemed as if there was no quick end to this conversation now, and perhaps there was some truth to this unbelievably insane story. The Wentworth tea set was certainly real, and she ought to know, she had purchased enough of them in her lifetime.

"No, I was born into a wizarding family – an ancient and noble wizarding family – but I am what they call a Squib. I am unable to do magic. My family were not able to accept this," she reached across the table and placed her hand over his and he gave her a small smile, the type that always reminded her exactly why she loved him, "although very few people would have done, back then. It's very much the same now, I believe. They decided it would be kinder to send me away, to be raised and live as a muggle. From the age of 17 I have had no contact with the wizarding world, or very little, at least." He sighed. "However, I have heard enough and understood enough to know that there has been a terrible, terrible war in the wizarding world for the last few years. As a Squib, I feared I would be in danger. I could never let anything happen to you, my dear, and so I wrote to Dumbledore, the only wizard I thought would answer, and asked that defensive spells be placed around the house. He did as I asked, and it was very decent of him to do so." He nodded at Dumbledore, who nodded back in return.

"And I thought that would be the end of our acquaintance. He had never heard of me before then. Had I not contacted him then, he would not be here now. That child is the daughter of my nephew, Sirius Black. He was a pureblood wizard." He saw his wife's confused face. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

"Professor Dumbledore, perhaps you should continue. I read your letter, of course, but I'm sure you will be able to explain it better. I have no desire to tell my wife myself what my relatives have done."

Dumbledore nodded and McGonagall looked away for a moment, "It means that he and all his family were wizards. The Black family has a great disdain for muggles – non-magical people – and were very proud of their heritage. The Black family have, for generations, hated wizards who mixed and married muggles, and witches and wizards who came from muggle families. Sirius Black was no different from the rest of his family. During this wizarding war Sirius fought for the Order. He fought for the rights of muggleborns and muggles. He married another member of the Order – Marlene McKinnon, another pureblood witch from a very prominent Irish wizarding family. Together they had a child. Sirius, however, was not loyal to the Order. He must have turned to the ranks of Lord Voldemort-" McGonagall jerked awkwardly at the same.

"I'm sorry, Minerva, but you should have no fear of the name. Fear of the name only increases the fear of the man, but I digress. Sirius Black joined the ranks of Lord Voldemort, a dark wizard. It would seem, then, that he betrayed the Order. He arranged the murder of the entire McKinnon family. To him, they were the worst of blood traitors. He was on duty with the Order all that day, a duty he volunteered for, whilst his wife was visiting her family. Black had insisted on a play date between Annie and the child of his best friend, James Potter. She was with him and his wife as Marlene and her family were tortured and murdered. He was so grief-stricken that we believed that it was all a coincidence, but, alas, in light of recent events, we now know that Black was an actor of the highest class."

"Only a few months later these very same friends, the Potters, were betrayed by Sirius and murdered by Lord Voldemort. Their son, Harry, managed to survive and will be cared for by his relatives. However, Harry's survival, as miraculous as it was, led to the downfall of Voldemort. Something happened, and we may never know what, that caused him to lose his powers. Sirius Black, unable to accept that he had lost, went on the run and murdered 13 muggles and another wizard. He has been captured and will spend the rest of his life in prison. You are the only family his daughter has left, at least, the only family that was not in league with Lord Voldemort. That is why me must ask you to raise her, and keep her away from other, ah, undesirable influences."

Caroline looked as though she was struggling to breathe. Marius stood up and walked to the window. After all these years, all the horrible truths had finally come out. Caroline would never look at him the same way again. "How... how could this all happen? How could this happen and none of us know? How could anyone ever do such a thing to their friends, their family? How could they hate people like that?" She whispered, her voice strained. If this was all true...

Dumbledore shook his head. "The human heart has great capacity for love, but just as much for hate. Of course, love is far more powerful, but greed and rage and envy can all be very effective as well... The wizarding world is not so different from the muggle one. After all, there is plenty of hate in your own world..."

"But the deaths... How could we never notice? How long has this been going on for?"

"Thousands of muggles vanish each year. The wizarding deaths were merely added to that total."

Caroline covered her mouth with her hand. "That poor little girl..." And with those words, Marius knew there was no way she would let the child out of her sight again. And that was why he loved his wife...

"Do you have a plan then, Dumbledore?" Marius sat back down and saw that McGonagall was smiling at both of them.

"Well, I planned that you would pass the child off as your own. I know that you are both rather, er, advanced in your years... forgive me... but certain advances in the field of muggle medicine would mean that it was rather surprising, but not unbelievable. That way, she could grow up without having to know, or have anyone else know, who her father was. He is absolutely notorious. Very few knew he had a child, if she vanished, she would just be forgotten. It will be assumed she died alongside her mother, and the rest of the McKinnons. It would be much better for her that way, I'm sure you'll agree. She will be in the same year as Harry, when she goes to school. She will be in the same classes of a number of children, whose parents were lost to Lord Voldemort, his followers and Sirius Black. How could we ask an innocent child to endure that shame?"

"Will she be a witch?" Asked Caroline.

"Yes, and probably a powerful one if her antics thus far are anything to go by."

"Annie Black, my little witch..." cooed Caroline.

"We can't call her Annie." Said Marius firmly. Dumbledore nodded, as if this was all going to plan.

"No, you can't." He said.

"No one, at least no true wizard, would believe that a Black called their daughter Annie. If we want to pass her off as a true Black, she'll have to have a better name than that."

Caroline looked up sharply, "I like the name Annabelle."

"It is a lovely name," he sighed, wishing he didn't have to reveal all of his family's madness. "But the Black family has a tradition of naming its children after stars and constellations."

McGonagall leant forwards, "Believe me, Marius got off lightly, I've taught children called Regulus and Andromeda..."

Caroline smiled, "Well, we aren't calling her that."

Marius shook his head, "Maia. The Maia star is part of the Taurus constellation and sounds vaguely normal. We can call her Maia Violetta Black, for my mother. That sounds like a suitably Black name. Will that do, do you think?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I think it sounds wonderful."

...


	4. A Real Family

**I still don't own Harry Potter...**

**Happy reading though! Also, please review! : ) **

Chapter Four

Caroline Black sat down at her dresser and sighed. Her back ached, her shoulders ached and she was tired to the bone. Apparently poor Maia's actual mother had barely been older than twenty one. There was a reason people of her age did not have children. She wouldn't want anyone to think that she didn't love the child – no, the little thing was adorable. But she was quite the character. It is one thing to bring a demanding, attention-seeking one-year-old into the house, but it was quite something else to adopt a child who could send her toys flying – really flying – across the room if you didn't play with her fast enough. A vase that a distant relative of hers had carried home from China back in the days of Empire had already fallen victim to one of Maia's tantrums. As she pulled a brush through her now shocking pink hair, she groaned inwardly. Yes, her hair had also fallen victim to Maia, although that was apparently just a favourite game of hers. Yesterday, her hair had been lime green. And none of the hair dye Marius had bought her from the shop seemed to make the slightest bit of difference. The last few weeks had been some of the best in her life though, of that she was absolutely certain.

And well, she supposed, every child had to express their individuality. Though if magic were truly real – and she now had to admit that it was – it seemed a little unfair that they had to deal with a pint-sized witch when they had no magical defences against her themselves.

She leant back in her chair and closed her eyes. Marius was already snoring heavily behind her, and Maia was tucked up quietly in her cot. Peace, blessed peace, she thought...

...

She woke up the next morning with a start. Two owls were, quite literally, hurling themselves repeatedly against her bedroom window. "Marius! Marius, wake up! Wake up!" She shouted, leaping up from the chair where she'd fallen asleep, and grabbing her usual pillow, she flung it at him. "What an earth is going on with those owls!"

He sat up and stared blankly at the two owls – who were now flapping their wings ferociously to stay in the air and pecking at the expensive glass over and over again – before rubbing his eyes and smiling. "I almost forgot. I haven't received a wizard letter since my parents died." He walked over to the window and flung it open. The two owls swooped in through the window and perched on the end of the bed. They each held out their legs – somewhat disdainfully after being kept waiting for so long – while Marius untied their letters. The first, a rather small grey owl, immediately flew away. The second, a large tawny owl settled himself comfortably on the bed and tucked his head beneath his wing.

Caroline waved her hands at it, "Shoo." The bird was unresponsive.

"He's waiting for an answer, I think he belongs to Dumbledore." Said Marius, looking down at the Hogwarts seal he'd seen on letter that came for Pollux, Cassiopeia and Dorea, but never for him. It was oddly painless to look at it now though. It was all so long ago.

He broke the seal of the letter.

_My Dear Marius and Caroline Black,_

_I do hope that you are both well and that little Maia is settling in nicely. I am sure that you are all getting along splendidly, but, if I am not imposing my company upon you, I might venture to call upon you all today. Perhaps we could all take elevenses together? _

_Wishing you the very best of health and a wonderful morning,_

_Albus Percivel Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, _

_Headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump for the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Order of Merlin, First Class._

"Dumbledore wants to visit."

Caroline walked across the room and read the letter over his shoulder. "He's a very busy man, this Dumbledore, isn't he?"

"Yes, well, he's coming for elevenses today."

"Very well, what does the next one say?"

Marius broke the seal, not recognising it.

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Marius Black,_

_We are writing to inform you that there has been an unusual amount of persistent and sustained magical activity at your address. As the residents of this address are registered as Squib and Muggle respectively, this has been brought to the attention to the Improper Use of Magic Office. A team will be sent to investigate and will be arriving shortly, at midday today._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Mafalda Hopkirk_

_Intern in the Improper Use of Magic Office._

Marius rolled his eyes. "The Ministry of Magic will also be coming for lunch."

Caroline sat back down, "Your people have a government? How can we not know _any_ of this?"

"_I _don't have a government, only Thatcher. I'm a Squib." He sat next to her on the bed. "Don't worry, Dumbledore will sort it all out before they get here."

Caroline shook her head and looked over towards the cot, "But what if they try and take her away? What if they know she isn't ours?"

"Dumbledore will sort everything out." Repeated Marius, rubbing the back of his neck again.

Caroline nodded and thought back over everything that had happened in the last few minutes. "I don't remember any owls coming to the house before."

"Oh, yes, they did, about twenty years ago. You were with your sister in the south of France for the week."

"I'm terribly sorry, my dear. You never told me about your parents. When they didn't come to the wedding, I assumed they had already passed away. You never spoke about them, you never mentioned them at all, so I assumed that they had died when you were young, before we met. I am so very sorry. Why did you never tell me?"

Marius smiled at his wife, though his smile was a little thin and worn with old cares. "It was easier, that way. I did write to them and inform them of our marriage, and they sent me the warmest congratulations they could manage, all things considered." He tried not to think about the actual words they had used, but there was no point telling poor Caroline what they had called her. "My sister, Dorea, actually sent a very kind letter and did want to come, but was concerned that she would not mingle well in muggle company. It was her who sent you those beautiful pearls, which I claimed to have chosen myself. Anyway, it was my brother who wrote to inform me of their deaths, dragon pox, and neither of them were young, but advised me that it would not be wise to attend their funeral. According to him, there might have been some tension. So I replied with my condolences and have not heard from them since. I know that Dorea has died already, sadly, but I have not heard from Pollux or Cassiopeia in many, many years."

Caroline squeezed his hand, "I am so very sorry. But now that we have Maia, perhaps you could try and write to them. They might like to meet their new niece. You might all find that you have a lot more in common, now that you've grown up."

He shook his head, "I doubt it, the daughter of a muggle and Squib bearing the name Black would embarrass them beyond belief, although I agree with Dumbledore that this is the best option. At least we can be told the truth and know to guard against... bad influences, and love her all the same. Pollux and Cassiopeia would undoubtedly be a bad influence, if they're still with us, that is."

Caroline shook her head, almost furiously, "You all talk about negative influences as if that poor little girl is pre-destined to evil. Really, it's quite ridiculous." She paused, "Though I wish I could do something to make up for all this times that I have complained about something else, whilst you must have been dealing with all of... this. I just feel so guilty that I never knew, never even realised."

"How could you have ever known? And you have nothing to feel sorry for, you have made the last forty years of marriage wonderful for me. I could never tell you that enough. As for my family, well, my family has a long history of evil, my dear. I had hoped that you would never have to find that out, but it is something you must now be aware of. We must be able to keep her away from them, at least until she's old enough to have learnt right and wrong from us."

"Well, you certainly aren't evil, and that little girl is as innocent as a rose. I won't hear another word on the matter." With that she stood up and began to get dressed, "I'm going to prepare for Dumbledore's visit, and for this Ministry of yours, and I want both you and Maia to be clean, tidy and presentable and I want the nursery to be spotless and when Dumbledore gets here, I want my hair back, and I want him to have some stern and effective words with Maia regarding my hair and my family heirlooms and then the infernally annoying nanny-state government are going to come and punctually leave and then I will have my house back and you will all leave me in peace!"

She began to walk out of the room as Marius quietly mumbled something that sounded like, "yes, dear" as he started to write a reply to Dumbledore.

At the door she turned round, "You have made me very happy as well, my love. The only thing I ever wished for was a child, but my life was so full and happy enough that I never felt I missed anything for long. But Maia is a blessing for us, I truly believe that, and soon you will all realise that as well. I don't care how many 'friendly visits' we have to endure from the Ministry or Dumbledore. Soon, they will all go away and we can start to be a proper family."

...


	5. And So The Lies Begin

**I don't own Harry Potter!**

**Hello again – I hope you're enjoying this story! Please review so I know how to improve/what you guys want to read. Thank you for my second review, and don't worry, I solemnly swear that Maia will not turn into a Mary Sue (at least I hope not). **

Chapter Five

The visit from Dumbledore had gone surprisingly well. He had turned up promptly, laughed politely at Caroline's hair before turning it back to its normal colour and made a fuss of Maia much like a doting grandfather.

"I see a lot of Marlene in her already." He'd said. For some reason, Caroline thought that she would burst with pride. Of course the little girl would take after her mother.

Then they'd sat down for a spot of tea and, with a tap and a wave of his wand, Dumbledore had produced a stack of paperwork; medical records, birth certificates, treatment plans, appointment notes, invoices to expensive Swiss clinics... Everything, indeed, to prove without a doubt that this little girl had been born to Caroline and Marius and had inherited her magic from the Black family line. Caroline was impressed to the lengths this gentleman must have gone to in order to learn, in such detail, how the muggle world functioned in order to produce such a comprehensive stack of paperwork.

Dumbledore had then informed them, rather sadly, that he had trusted contacts in the Auror Office (apparently this was akin to the muggle security services) who had made sure that Annie Lily Black was listed among the dead from the war against Voldemort. To the rest of the world, Annie Black had died in one of the reprisal attacks in the weeks following the fall of Lord Voldemort. It was to be a cold case. A suspected Death Eater attack with no leads. The child and a McKinnon relative (who had died in the same attack as the child's birth mother) were to be found dead. No justice. Another case in hundreds that had appeared over the years of You-Know-Who's terror.

Caroline was saddened by this, but as Marius and Dumbledore said, it was for the best.

She wasn't however, sure about another addition Dumbledore had bought to the house. She was, of course, used to hired help, but this was something else entirely. Dumbledore had insisted they take on a house elf. He summoned one of his own from the school, called Trixie, who had now passed into their ownership. The ceremony of bondage had been very short and simple, but Trixie was now bound to obey their every command. It would be nice to have an extra pair of hands around the house, and someone who could deal with the magical implications of Maia's mood swings, but the idea that she somehow _owned_ another living creature, a sentient being, did not sit well with her.

Marius was thrilled, "I forgot how much I missed having a house elf!" were his words.

Trixie had beamed at him after he'd said that, but she looked like she was about to cry why Caroline tried to suggest they could pay her a wage, and perhaps sort out a pattern of regular working hours.

The Ministry officials were the same as any of their own stuffy, superfluous bureaucrats. They didn't stay long, once they realised the magic was coming from their daughter. They placed the Trace upon her and assured them that they would be on hand if they had any queries regarding raising a magical child.

After that, they had finally been left in peace.

...

_About four months later..._

"Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday dear Maia,

Happy birthday to you!"

Marius and Caroline cheered and clapped as Trixie carried in a ridiculously over-sized triple chocolate birthday cake, which completely dwarfed the two candles placed in the centre. Maia clapped her small hands and, grinning broadly, leant forwards to blow out the two little lights. Caroline clapped again and beamed at her daughter.

"Could you have made the cake any bigger?" Laughed Marius, looking almost a decade younger, as he clapped the little house elf on the back.

"Did I get carried away, Master Black?"

Marius left again, "Not at all, dear Trixie, not at all! We can always save some of it for her third birthday!"

Marius surveyed the room around him, surprised himself by how much their quiet house and quiet life had changed so much in the last few months. Magic had come back into his life, in a new, exciting, and surprisingly welcome way. It wasn't just Maia's magical tantrums (which had not subsided significantly), or Trixie popping up when called, it wasn't just the food that had changed, as he was now rediscovering magical treats long forgotten. Caroline was a particular fan of Honeydukes chocolates. It wasn't that they were connected to the Floo Network again, or that he had switched his subscription from the Daily Telegraph to the Daily Prophet, it was more than that. Magic had come back in the form of a small, tiny, innocent child who needed love and care and it was the joy of giving and receiving love that had bought both him and Caroline back to life, or, at least, back to the days of their youth.

Looking back, it seemed ridiculous that they'd never had children before. In truth, he'd never wanted them because part of him feared that they would somehow inherit his magic. He could hardly believe how foolish he had been. He would have loved his children, magic or not. He was not like his parents and now he was a grown man, he did not need to fear them because he was a Squib.

As he looked over and saw his wife helping Maia unwrap her presents – a children's flying broomstick, Grimm's Fairy Tales, a copy of Beedle Bard and a number of very pink, sparkly dresses that Caroline adored for some reason – he could not help but be thrilled at how rich and full his life had become. Maia was definitely his little girl now, and he would never let Sirius Black or any of his poisonous relatives near her, over his dead body.

...

**Don't forget to review! : ) **


	6. Changes

**I still don't own Harry Potter!**

**I just want to say a really big thank you to everyone who's added this to their story alerts and favourites – I'm glad you want to read more! Maia's getting older now, so more things are going to start happening. I'll try and make the chapters a bit longer; the last one was rather short. I'm writing my dissertation at the moment though, so the length won't really improve for a few weeks... :) **

Chapter Six

_Four years later..._

"Maia Violetta Black, come back here this instant!" Yelled Caroline as Maia darted into the heaving crowd that filled Diagon Alley. Her lips formed a tight line as her unruly daughter vanished from sight. It was late August and everyone was doing their school shopping. They should have waited a few weeks before buying all of these things. Marius trotted up behind her, weighed down by heavy bags of shopping. In retrospect, he should have asked Trixie to come with them, or perhaps taken advantage of the postal delivery service.

"Has she run off again?"

"Yes, and straight towards the Quidditch supply store, no doubt. I knew you should never have given her a broom. Children aren't _supposed_ to fly!" Inwardly, Caroline laughed to think that a few years ago, all of this had been alien to her. Now she felt as comfortable as the next person browsing the shops of Diagon Alley, even if she did have to get Tom the barman to open the gateway for her. He quickly did as he was told though. It still took her aback how quickly people responded to the name Black. It was if the name itself held some kind of magical pull over the rest of the wizarding population.

She re-evaluated that thought. It didn't work on the goblins, and she definitely didn't feel comfortable around them. Although it seemed that seemed that no body else did either. Setting up a Gringotts account had been a frightful affair. She wondered how they managed to stay in business which that level of customer service.

"Well, _magical_ children fly. All my siblings used to, anyway. Come on, she can't have gone far this time."

"Maia!"

"Maia!"

Marius saw her up ahead, "Maia Violetta Black – I am your father and you will obey me like a good daughter of the House of Black. You will return to me now!" He sounded like his own father...

That wasn't a bad thing, necessarily. He had been thrown out of the wizarding world. He had been judged and found wanting. It would not happen again. He was going to raise the paradigm of a perfect, well-bred witch. Maia would be a model Black, just without the standard propensity for evil.

Rolling her eyes, Maia began to walk back towards him, dragging her feet. "Sorry Dad, but you two are so sloooow. I just wanted to see the new Cleansweep Five."

He patted her head, "That's all well and good, but we are your parents and you have a duty to behave. You are a daughter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. When you get to Hogwarts, the other children will expect you to behave in, and have been brought up in, a certain way. You do not want to let yourself down, now, do you Maia?"

"No Dad, sorry Dad."

"Now, come on, your mother is just behind us. It's about time we went home to set up your school room."

"Can I see the broom?"

"Absolutely not, not after you ran away."

Her face fell.

"We'll be back again soon, I'm sure, sweetheart." Of course he'd bring her back soon. Dad never said no, at least not for long.

...

That evening, as Trixie cleared away the table, Caroline dismissed Maia and told her she could go and play in the nursery. Of course, Maia quietly excused herself and walked halfway up the stairs, before checking that they weren't listening, and creeping back down to eavesdrop with her ear pressed tightly against the dining room door.

She heard her father stand up and walk over to the drinks table and pour himself something from one of the decanters.

"Would you like anything, my dear?"

"Is the Scotch good?"

"Caroline, the Scotch is always good." They smiled at each other, remembering the Scotch they drank on their first semi-date when the boys and girls had snuck onto the Cambridge lawns and drunk and danced until dawn.

"Are you sure that we're doing the right thing, setting up a schoolroom?"

Please, please change your minds, begged Maia, please change your minds. She liked it how it was. She liked going to the muggle school, even if she had to wear the silly straw hat and the gloves, because Holly and Rosie went there. She was sure, judging by the things that her mum and dad had brought today, that if she was home-schooled, she wouldn't be learning the same things as Holly and Rosie. What if Rose started to beat her in English? She was always the best at English!

Marius nodded, "It's what all the old, pureblood families do."

"Yes, but we aren't a pureblood family, are we?"

Maia was almost bored; they had this discussion to many times. Dad was a Squib, mum was a muggle and she was a sort-of half-blood and a sort-of muggleborn, but it didn't really matter because she'd be going to Hogwarts all the same. But Dad's family were stuffy and old-fashioned, not that she'd met any of them, for some reason, so he still had this 'thing' about doing everything 'properly'.

"No, we're not. The Black family, however, is. When she gets to Hogwarts all the Malfoys, the Rosiers, the Crabbes, the Abbots, all of them will know the name Black. If they know more about her family than she does, if they know more about how she _should_ have be raised, than she does, she'll stick out like a sore thumb. This is simply how things are done."

"And does that make them right?"

"Well, she's going to be making her career in the magical world, I presume. Surely then, she should start her magical education as soon as possible. She should have a head start in the world. It's not like we don't have the resources to provide her with one."

Caroline nodded slowly, "Yes, but I know she's worried about missing her friends." Thanks mum, Maia thought to herself.

"She can see them on the weekends, still."

Caroline made a disapproving noise before taking a sip of her drink. "Well, are you any closer to finding her a tutor? It's all well and good buying the spell books and the cauldrons and the astronomy models, but it's not as if _we_ can teach her anything from them!"

Marius nodded, "I placed an advertisement in the Prophet a few days ago and have had a number of replies. Most of them we're useless, of course, but there was one rather promising gentlemen who I've invited for an interview tomorrow."

Maia groaned. As far as she was concerned, her life was over. Her parents always ruined everything! Well, her father could hire a tutor, that was for sure, but he couldn't make them stay! And what did they know about magic? Neither of them could even do magic! Mum hadn't even known about magic until she was born – what made her such a expert now? And they always said that she would learn magic at Hogwarts and they all knew she could do magic anyway without anyone teaching her. Just last week she and made Dad float in the air for a full fifteen minutes and it hadn't even been difficult. Stupid parents and stupid tutors, what made them think they could tell _her_ what to do?

...

**Reviews would be lovely, if it's not too much trouble : ) **


	7. The Lies of Remus Lupin

**Hi guys, thanks again for any reviews that I've had so far. I'm really enjoying this story: I've planned everything up until the Quidditch World Cup in Maia's fourth year! **

Chapter Seven

Remus Lupin stared at his reflection in the mirror. His facial hair was straggly and unkempt. He cast his eyes around his shabby apartment to know that this was hardly surprising. A half-empty bottle of fire whiskey sat on the dust-laden table, and he knew that two empty ones sat in the bin. This was not the life that a graduate with eleven 'O's at NEWT level should be living. If he had been anyone else, he would have landed himself a dull, yet comfortable position, in one of the Ministry's departments by now. But he wasn't anybody else and the Ministry did not employ werewolves.

He sighed. He had red rings under his eyes, and although the full moon had already passed, his skin still had a rather grey tinge to it. He tapped his wand against his cheek and the hair started to come away. When he was finished, he looked decidedly more presentable.

Inwardly, he was far from this. Firstly, he was furious. He was furious at Sirius Black for doing what he did. If it wasn't for Sirius' betrayal, everyone else would still be here, they would all be together, and his 'regular haunts' would not be gravesides. No pun was intended. Remus Lupin didn't do jokes, not any more at lease. Secondly, he was furious with Dumbledore. He had been in no state to raise Annie. When would he ever be in a state to raise a child? But that didn't mean that he didn't care about what happened to her. He glanced at the crumpled Daily Prophet on the table. Just a few days before he had seen an advert which made his blood run cold.

'_Tutor/Governess Required for Immediate Start:_

_A position has become available for a suitably qualified and experienced individual. The successful applicant will be required to instruct a five-year-old witch in basic magical knowledge, to include Astrology, History of Magic, Wizarding Genealogy, Wizarding Etiquette and general magical theory. The child in question is already reading and writing to a proficient level, but the tutor/governess appointed is expected to ensure that she develops a good writing style and appropriate handwriting._

_Appointment subject to interview. Rate of pay will be generous. _

_Interested applicants are invited to contact Mr M. P. Black by owl post.'_

He had no idea who M. P. Black was – he had no interest in magical genealogy and no real intention of taking the job so he wasn't going to bother to find out. He had only one interest in the matter. He had only written to the man – Remus doubted he was a _gentleman _– only to find out if the truth was what he feared: that little Annie Black, the tiny baby he could not bear to raise, had really been handed over to the family of her mother's murderers.

And thirdly, he was furious with himself, because if he had been brave enough at the time, Annie Black, if the child in question really was Annie Black, would be safe with him, safe from the evil of her father's family, safe from those who would turn her to Dark magic the moment they had the chance.

Dumbledore had told him she would be taken to her family. He had assumed that Dumbledore meant the McKinnons. He had assumed she would be taken somewhere _safe_, where the people were kind and _good_. So, on reflection, he was most angry with Dumbledore.

...

Maia sat in front of the dresser as Caroline finished tying the bows to the ends of her long, thick, dark braids.

"I don't want a tutor."

"Your father wants you to have a tutor."

"I want to stay with my friends."

"But you aren't like your friends. You need to learn about magic as well."

"Why do I have to leave my friends?"

"Because you have to stay here and study."

"Why can't I just do it after school?"

Caroline sighed. They had had this conversation too many times. Maia had dug her heels into the ground and was refusing to budge. She had decided that she didn't want to leave school, and she had decided to make sure that her parents were abundantly aware of her displeasure.

"Because it would be too much work, to go to school, then come home and do homework from there, and then have more lessons about magic."

"I don't want a tutor."

"You might like him."

"I bet he's old and boring."

"He's not even 30 and he's travelled the world."

"30's ancient and he clearly doesn't care about the environment. Miss Sprinkle at school says that..."

"I assure you that he has a very low carbon footprint. He travelled using magic."

Maia glared at her reflection.

"Your father is talking to him right now, and then you're going to go to the schoolroom and you're going to meet up and be perfectly polite."

"I don't want to."

"Maia Violetta Black", snapped Caroline, her patience wearing thin, "to which family do you belong."

Maia sighed like she was reciting the most boring thing in the world. Her father went on and on about this all the time – this was how he and his siblings were raised – but Caroline was a muggle and so usually a lot more fun than this. "I am a daughter of the noble and most ancient house of Black."

"And how does a daughter of the noble and most ancient house of Black behave?"

Maia rolled her eyes, but catching a glimpse of her mother's displeased reflection in the mirror, she sat up a little straighter and recited, "A daughter of the noble and most ancient house of Black behaves with dignity and decorum at all times. She is polite, quiet, modest and does as she is told."

"Correct, so what are you going to do?"

"I am going to go to the schoolroom, which used to be a second playroom and which was much better when it was a second playroom, and sit at the desk and be introduced to Mr. Lupin."

"Yes, very good."

Maia stood up and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She usually wore the fun muggle clothes that her mum chose for her, but the same day that her second playroom was turned into a schoolroom, her mum had taken her to Diagon Alley and purchased a whole set of witches' outfits for her. Now she was wearing a set a pale grey witches' robes. The muggle clothes were a lot more fun than this. She looked like something out of a stupid fairytale.

...

Remus Lupin leant across the table and shook the hand of the reticent M. P. Black as he sat in the chair.

"Thank you for taking the time to interview me." He said politely. He wished, however, that the unusually quiet man would hurry up and let him meet the girl. He had to be sure that Annie Black – if she was here – was safe. If not, then he would have to take her back to Dumbledore and insist that she was raised properly. Even if that meant taking her in himself.

"That's quite alright." He answered brusquely.

Remus Lupin looked around the study, lined with heavy, leather-backed tomes. It was a rather dark room, but overall, he was rather surprised by what he had seen of the house so far. It was a little ostentatious, with plenty of marble floors, marble fireplaces, gilt-framed oil paintings and expensive fittings and furnishings, but the effect was, nevertheless, tasteful and the rooms were well-lit and airy. It was not how he had imagined a Black family home.

"You have a lovely home, sir."

"That's irrelevant, Mr. Lupin."

Remus almost did a double table at the politeness the address, if not the comment or the tone. It had been a long time since a fellow wizard called him 'Mr. Lupin', but then Mr. Black didn't know what he was, and he would probably find out soon. Just as long as he got to see the girl first...

Marius Black sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth. Suddenly, bringing an unknown wizard into his home didn't seem like such a good idea. What if he mocked him the moment he found out that he was a Squib? What if he worked out that Maia was not their child? What if he was a Dark wizard and, heaven forbid, attacked them all? He suddenly felt very defenceless. What if he had put his wife and daughter in danger?

"What is relevant is your suitably for your position."

"Of course, sir."

"You seem academically qualified, and it would seem that you tutored whilst in school. However, you've had very sporadic employment since then. Could you explain this?"

"As you're aware, sir, I graduated at the height of the Wizarding War against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. At that time, employment opportunities weren't promising."

"Granted, but the war ended four years ago."

"Well, I suffered a number of bereavements during the war. After it ended I decided to travel. I wanted to get away from the UK at the time, but after that I decided to travel simply to learn more about different wizarding cultures and communities. I feel that this would benefit me as an educator. I also wrote and published a number of articles about different magical traditions and cultures whilst I travelled as well."

"Very interesting, I'm sure. You mentioned wizarding traditions. Where do you stand on traditions within our own country?"

Remus clenched his fists in his laps. This was exactly what he had dreaded. "I'm sure that they are very important to those who hold them."

"And where do you stand on the issue of blood status, sir."

"I'm a half-blood, sir. If that's what you want to know."

Marius suppressed a smile. The reputation of his family clearly preceded him. It was also a good sign that the man wasn't a pureblood. The fact he was glaring at him like the was the worst of blood-purists was even more promising. "No, that wasn't what I was interested in. Though the question before was a leading one. What I really wanted to ask, was how you would view the daughter of a Squib and a muggleborn?"

"I would view her the same as any other witch."

"And how would you instruct her?"

"In the same way as any other witch." Marius smiled and leant back of his chair. Lupin frowned. "I'm not sure what you're implying, sir?"

"I am a Squib, my wife is a muggle, and it would seem that my daughter is a witch. Yes, I am a member of the House of Black, albeit disowned for my blood status, but I wish to see my daughter educated well in the ways of the wizarding world and to have pride in the prestige of her family. Yes, I am a snob. No, I am not the blood-purist you were expecting."

Lupin forced himself to suppress a laugh. "It crossed my mind to curse you, sir."

"I know it did. The house-elf is on stand-by to protect her family, should you have done so. Although I have to admit, I was more concerned that you would be attacking us for rather different reasons."

"It is a sad world, sometimes."

"Yes." Marius paused, "Would you like to meet my daughter now? I'm starting to think that you would be rather well-suited for this position." He laughed quietly. It was as if the weight of the world had just been taken off his shoulders.

Remus followed him through the corridors towards the schoolroom. He was surprisingly happy in this house. If the job was offered, he was tempted to take it now, regardless of who the daughter turned out to be. He strongly suspected that Annie was the daughter; if Dumbledore needed to find a family, it would be just like him to find a random, disowned, snobby-yet-perfectly-reasonable Black to do the job.

As he walked into the room he was taken aback by the sheer amount of trouble they had gone to. The walls were lined with books. It was like Hogwarts library in miniature. There were no desks, but rather one large table in the centre of the room where the child and the tutor could study together. There was a map on one wall and a star chart on the other. He saw a small potions set in the far corner, beneath the window. All in all, it was a geek's paradise. And Remus Lupin was a geek.

A small girl jumped down from her chair and walked towards him. She stood perfectly upright and walked lightly on her feet. An older woman waited further away on the other side of the room.

"Mr. Lupin" said Marius "may I present my daughter, Miss. Maia Violetta Black?"

Remus made a small bow and Maia curtseyed. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Lupin."

Remus looked her up and down. She certainly looked like a Black. She didn't look anything like Marlene at all. Marlene's chestnut hair and hazel eyes were unlike the black locks and blue eyes of this little girl. She didn't even have Sirius' curls, though she did have is colouring. In fact, her straight hair and large eyes made her look more like Bellatrix Lestrange than any other member of the Black family that he knew of. The thought made his gut twist uncomfortably. However, the moment she rose up from her curtsey, and fixed her gaze on him, he knew, without a doubt, that she was really Annie Black.

Only the daughter of Sirius Black could look that mischievous. Only the daughter of Marlene McKinnon could look that stubborn.

_..._


	8. The Rebellion of Maia Black

**Can't believe I looked online today and saw that I had ten whole reviews! **

**Anyway, I still don't own Harry Potter, and never will, but am having fun writing this anyway.**

Chapter Eight

Remus Lupin glowered at his pupil. Over the course of the last four weeks, he had repeatedly asked himself exactly how Slughorn and McGonagall had managed to teach James and Black without murdering them in their sleep. Not that it had ever really occurred to him to kill his student, but throwing her out the window had been a genuine possibility on a number of occasions. After all, she was a witch so would probably bounce, he reasoned. It wasn't as if she was a bad student, per se. In fact, she had, on multiple occasions, displayed real promise. She had a quick mind when working out the maths and English problems he set for her, and a natural skill for brewing potions. Under his direction, she had successful brewed a Swelling Solution, a cure for boils, a hiccoughing solution and a cough potion. She even shared the Black family obsession with astronomy. Moreover, she had a level of concentration and an eye for magical detail that was outstanding for a five-year-old who had, thus far, spent most of her time in the muggle world.

They hadn't started to look at Charms or Transfiguaration – although they would only be studying the theory when they did. Marius Black was adamant that she would not have a wand until she was at least ten years old, and Remus was inclined to agree. However, she could list a number of basic magical plants and their uses already. She showed little interest in Wizarding genealogy or etiquette, but her outward manners were already fairly well ingrained thanks to Marius and, at his insistence, she knew the last four generations of her family by rote. Remus planned to cover a generation a week, with one notable family member covered in depth each day.

But, in spite of all of this, she was one of the worst pupils he had ever come across. She was wilful, insubordinate, dismissive and had a knack for being frightfully rude without a cross word ever leaving her lips. She was able to sneer and turn her head from him in a way that reminded him more of Bellatrix and Narcissa as each day passed. Of course, she could have learnt this from Marius and Caroline (who came from a long line of British aristocrats, whose ability to produce thinly veiled social put-downs came second only to their ability to shoot a pheasant) but on a five-year-old such skills were rather disturbing.

However, all of this made him more determined to stay. He would educate her to the best of his ability, and, come what may, he would make sure that she turned out well. The mantra 'bad manners and rudeness are the sign of an over-indulged child, not actual signs of fundamental evil' was something he had often found himself repeating. But this was what he had taken on.

He had, over the last few years, come to terms with the violence of his grief enough to realise that he had failed Marlene. He had given away the baby he had sworn to care for. Although she was no longer his – and he had no desire to enlighten Marius or Caroline of the true nature of his relationship with Maia, or Sirius Black for that matter – he was now going to make up for it. The fact that this was also his first chance of a paying job with an employer who neither thought to check (and who probably wouldn't work) that he was a werewolf was also something he had to take into consideration. Beggars wouldn't be choosers, after all.

However, it really didn't help things that, by some terrible act of genetic chance, the girl looked like Bellatrix Lestrange in miniature. She even had the blue eyes that the Black family were famous for, unlike her father, who had managed to inherit his grey eyes from somewhere else in the (limited) pureblood gene pool.

And now, at this very moment, this living replica of a mass-murdering Death Eater sat before him with her arms folded. "I'm terribly sorry, Professor Lupin, but I don't understand what you want me to do."

"I would like you to copy the next section of the family tree from the board."

"Could you repeat that please, sir?"

"Maia, copy the family tree from the board."

"How?"

"By using the quill and paper in front of you."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I've forgotten the question."

Remus chewed the bottom of his lip, but in that moment, Marius Black stormed through the door. "Maia Violetta Black, I have never been so ashamed of you in all my life! You have here a school room and a tutor, paid for at the expense of your mother and I, in order to educate you to the highest possible standard. There are children in the world, muggle and magical, who would do anything to have this opportunity. You have no idea how very lucky you are, not just to have an education, but to have a roof over your head, food bought to your table every night and both your parents who love you dearly. And yet, I come here, to hear how your lessons are progressing, only to find you behaving in the most reprehensible manner! Your grandmother and grandfather would turn in their graves if they thought a child of their family was speaking in such a manner to a fully grown adult, to someone they were supposed to show the utmost courtesy and respect. You will not continue your lessons this afternoon. You will go to the kitchen and help Trixie with her chores. You will neither complain nor answer her back, and you will think about your behaviour and its consequences. Tonight, we will discuss your behaviour and your education. Have I made myself clear?"

"I don't care what you say – I want to go back to school!"

"I am your father, you are to be educated here!"

"I _hate_ you!"

Lupin looked over at Marius, even from a five year old throwing a tantrum, that was quite below the belt.

"Be that as it may, I am your father and there is nothing you can do to change that. Go and find Trixie, now."

...

Maia spent the rest of that day scrubbing most of the floors in the house. And she hated it. Trixie had been nice enough to her, but Lupin had said that he was going to let her brew another potion that afternoon and she loved watching the differing coloured steams float into the air as the mixture simmered. Housework couldn't really compare to that. Trixie had also pointed this out to her as well. After all, witches and wizards were supposed to do magic, not housework. Trixie had told her all about Hogwarts too, and magic was a lot more fun than she had thought before. Hogwarts sounded much better than the muggle school she had gone to before. If she worked hard, then she could start doing real magic sooner. And, after all, her father was right that she was supposed to be polite. She was a daughter of the noble and most ancient house of Black, and that meant something, if only to her father. And even though he was old and boring and stupid and had told her off and embarrassed her in front of Professor Lupin, she did still love him.

Dinner was very quiet that evening. Neither Caroline nor Marius really spoke to each other, both of them wondering if they would, in the end, be forced to relent and send Maia back to the muggle school. After dinner, Marius and Caroline took her to the study and asked her what she had learnt today.

"I didn't learn anything. You made me scrub floors."

"Did you learn anything at all while you were scrubbing the floors?" asked Marius.

"No."

"And did you have fun scrubbing the floors?"

"Not really."

"Do you want to scrub the floors tomorrow?"

"I'd rather not, Dad." Marius tried to fight back a smile. She was looking at him like butter wouldn't melt and while he was secretly proud that she was trying – he didn't want a daughter who could never get what she wanted – but there was no way it was going to work on him. Well, not today, at least.

"What do you want to do tomorrow?"

"I want to study with Professor Lupin, even the boring stuff, because he lets me brew potions in the afternoon sometimes and that's fun and when I get to Hogwarts, I'll have a wand and can do the really cool stuff Trixie told me about. I should probably apologise to him as well for being rude, as well."

"Yes, you should apologise." Said Caroline, "And is there anything else you want to add? Is there anything else you want to say to your father?"

"I'm sorry I was rude."

"That's quite alright. And are you aware of how very privileged and lucky you are?"

"Yes, Dad. I am sorry. I don't hate you."

"So why have you been behaving so badly? I have spoken to Professor Lupin and, from what he was told me, this was not an isolated incident."

Maia sighed. "I know I have to learn magic and I want to learn magic, but I miss Holly and Rosie."

Caroline nodded slowly and looked pointedly at Marius. This had been her theory all along: typically, Marius had been concerned that she was channelling her imprisoned father's spirit. He seemed to forget that temper tantrums were part and parcel of raising a young child sometimes.

Marius nodded, "We want you to mix with muggles and magical people. If you behave yourself for the next few weeks, I will arrange a day trip for Rosie, Holly and you. Do you agree to this arrangement?"

"Yes, Dad."

...

For the next few weeks, Maia really began to work at her lessons. She was in the classroom before Lupin each morning, carefully reading through her lessons from the day before. She sat up straight, as her father wanted her to, and dressed in witch's robes without complaint. She was even starting to like them: the dresses weren't all that girly overall and were surprisingly easy to run in when she played in the grounds after lessons. More than this, she was actually starting to enjoy her lessons as well. Now that she was working, she was learning faster. Lupin let her brew more and more potions. They had started a Herbology patch in the garden and he had twice let her use his wand to practice setting off red and green sparks.

Marius was pleased with the way things were turning out: Maia had informed him at dinner a few weeks ago that she quite liked all the history that came with genealogy, but was it ok if she thought some of their relatives were weird? She was particularly surprised to learn that Araminta Mulifula (a cousin on their grandmother's side) petitioned the government to make muggle-hunting legal. He had asked Lupin to explain the Wizarding War after that, and although she knew nothing about the exact details (i.e. her own connection) she was really upset to find it out. Of course, they couldn't tell a five year old the real horrors, but they had told her enough so that she knew there was 'good' and 'bad' magic. She was excited that she would go to Hogwarts with the Boy Who Lived. Marius tried not the think of the irony.

After this, he decided to arrange the day trip for Maia with Holly and Rosie.

The day was set for that Bank Holiday. Holly and Rosie's parents would drop them off in the morning and Professor Lupin – who would be the muggle Mr. Lupin for the day – would take all the girls to the zoo for the day while their parents went to work. Well, Marius would go and play golf and Caroline would be in the spa. Both of them had retired a few years previously.

The morning started off poorly. Holly and Rosie were duly delivered by their parents, and wasted no time telling Maia about everything she had been missing at school. Namely, a new girl, Becky, had joined their class and she seemed to be practically perfect in every way. She was pretty and funny and clever and her parents let her do whatever she liked. She had invited them both to her house for the Bank Holiday but their parents had insisted they go to the zoo with her, because she had invited them first. They said they were very pleased to see her again, but they didn't sound particularly sincere. They never once said that they had missed her.

Maia cheered up when Lupin came to drive them to the zoo. They'd spoken about this trip at length yesterday; he'd been raised in an all-wizard house and was looking forward to a 'muggle day', as he put it.

"_Doesn't he look shabby?"_ she heard Rosie whisper?

"_Do you think he's poor?"_

"_How awful!" _

Maia blanched when she saw Professor Lupin flinch from the driver's seat. How could they be so rude? She'd never really paid much attention to he dressed before. She was always ruining her clothes, so he looked rather smart in her eyes. And what did it matter either way? He knew everything, he'd been to India and Egypt and let her brew potions and sometimes use his wand!

The first thing Holly and Rosie did when they got to the zoo was demand a chocolate ice cream each, even though it was only quarter past ten in the morning. They complained loudly when Lupin said no; they could wait until lunch. They went and saw the snakes and the lions and the elephants. Lupin told them all about the different animals and where they came from, until Holly said that she thought they were getting a day off school. After that, Maia hung back, holding Lupin's hand and listening to him while the others ran off ahead.

At lunch, Lupin went to get them the promised chocolate ice cream, leaving the three girls to sit at the table.

"He's so boring, Maia, I feel so sorry for you!" started Holly, as Rosie nodded enthusiastically.

"I like him. The lessons are loads of fun. He's a great teacher and much more fun than the teachers at school."

"But why did you leave? _Was the work too hard for you?"_ whispered Rose, looking around as if she was trying to be tactful.

"No, Dad wanted me to be home-schooled. He thought it would be better."

The two girls nodded, as if they weren't convinced.

"It's such a shame that you can't come back, if you did, we could be proper friends."

"What do you mean, we can't be proper friends?" whispered Maia.

"Well, you can't be best friends with someone unless you see them every day. So we aren't best friends and we don't see you at all, so you aren't real friends."

"But Dad says you can visit any time you want, after school or at the weekends."

"But your Dad is soooo dull. Becky's parents let her do anything she wants."

"Dad only has important rules." Said Maia, her eyes filling with tears.

Lupin's jaw was tight. He had to concede that Maia could be a madam at times, but she had been a joy to teach for the last few weeks. Now that everything was sorted out, and she knew she could still see her friends, she had really behaved herself. She was cheeky at times, and a little stubborn like Marlene, but she also had Marlene's kind heart, the same kind heart that Caroline had. She was very much like both of her mother's in that sense, and these two girls were being unbelievably nasty. He was half tempted to take them both home straight away, but he knew they he was stuck with them until their parents finished work at five.

He walked quickly over to the table, handing each of the girls their ice cream and winked at Maia as he did so. When the other two wandered off to refill their coke, he whispered conspiratorially, "It won't be much longer 'til we can get rid of them. We'll get through it together, right?" Maia nodded quickly, "And if you manage to survive it, I promise that you can spend all of Monday making potions." She brushed away a tear that threatened to spill over and forced a smile.

The rest of her day was progressively worse and she clung to Remus. She thought about turning their hair blue, or making them swell up, or just pushing them into the monkey pen, but found that she didn't have the heart for any of it. She just wanted to go home and never have to see either of them again. At five o'clock, Lupin dropped the two girls off at their homes and was glad to see the back of the brats. Maia promptly burst into tears, sobbing that she no longer had any friends at all. When she got home, she flung herself into Caroline's arms and stayed there until supper.

And that was the last time Maia Black ever willingly went to the zoo.

...

**Reviews would be lovely : )**


	9. The Muggles and The Ministry

**I'm starting to feel silly typing this, but no, I don't own Harry Potter. I do own a dog though, who is currently trying to type on my laptop at the same time as me!**

**Danzaniel: Thanks for the review. This is mainly Maia's story at the moment, so she probably won't be meeting Harry until she gets to Hogwarts, which won't be too long now As for what Harry's like... well, you're not getting any spoilers out of me! : ) **

**Happy reading!**

Chapter Nine

For the next few days, Maia seemed rather withdrawn. She was so unlike her usual self that Caroline, Remus and Marius all found the change shocking. She barely spoke unless spoken to first, she made no jokes in her lessons, nor asked any questions. She buried her head behind her book or her quill and rarely emerged unless told to. After lessons, rather than playing in her nursery or on the grounds, she would simply wander the rooms of the house.

After a week, she stumbled across Trixie in one of the (many) spare bedrooms upstairs.

"Miss Maia!" cried Trixie, "What is you doing up here all alone?"

"I was just walking. I'm sorry, I'll go."

Trixie shook her head, her large ears drooping and her eyes filling with tears, "Why is you so quiet and sad, Miss Maia?"

Without any further prompting, Maia ran over to the bed and sat on it and Trixie clambered up after her. "Because I don't have any friends, Trixie!" It was all she could do to keep herself from wailing.

"But you has me, Miss Maia! I is your friend! I is always your friend!"

Trixie flung her small arms around Maia, who looked at her sadly. "It's not the same. You don't play with me. I don't have anybody to play with."

"I will play with you whenever you wants, Miss Maia, you is only having to ask, Miss Maia!" Maia leaned across and pulled Trixie into a tight hug. "And Master Lupin, isn't he also being your friend, Miss Maia?"

"But he's my tutor!"

"But you is liking him and you is having fun with him!"

Maia nodded, "I suppose so." She paused. "But Dad said that he wants me to have muggle friends and magical friends. You and Professor Lupin are both magical." She paused again. "And Professor Lupin told me about the Wizarding War. He said that bad people attacked muggleborns and muggles and Squibs because they didn't like non-magical people. I don't want anyone to think I'm like that! I want to have muggle friends as well!"

If it was possible, Trixie's ears would have dropped even further. "You isn't remembering the Wizarding War, not like Trixie is remembering it. Those were bad times for house elves too. Any witch who is being friends with her house elf is being nothing like those bad, bad witches and wizards. You is a good witch, Miss Maia. Trixie is knowing it. Trixie is being sure of it."

After that, things began to go back to normal. The first sign was when Caroline woke up the next morning to find that her hair was scarlet. The second sign was that it turned purple within half an hour of Remus fixing it. Maia never mentioned Holly or Rosie again, and, from then on, could often be found playing with Trixie in the evenings. After all, this wasn't the sort of house where the master and mistress would complain if the house elf wasn't cleaning.

...

_Just over one year later..._

Caroline looked out of the window as Maia and Remus walked back from the garden. Maia was beaming. She was skipping and swinging her arms as Remus walked beside carrying what looked like a rather heavy basket loaded with magical plants. Given the expression on Maia's face – which she knew well enough herself – Maia was trying to talk him into something. She pursued her lips tightly though. Although it was clear that Maia was happy and healthy, she never played, or even met, anyone of her own age. She worried about her daughter's social skills. What would she be like when she got to school? Yes, she could be playful, but that was with adults who she knew were always in charge. In many ways, she had led a very sheltered life and, over the last year, had become increasingly serious and studious. Marius's lessons in politeness were making her all the more careful and controlled in expressing herself and, thanks to his insistence on etiquette as wall, she spoke with such measured precision, and walked so very correctly – at least outside of the house – that she seemed far older than a six year old in many ways.

"Is everything alright, my love?" Asked Marius, putting down his copy of _The Horse and Hound_, although it had been many years since he had last taken part in a hunt.

Caroline nodded, walking back to the sofa to sit beside him. "Of course, I'm just worrying about Maia."

Marius laughed, "You aren't worrying about missing her when she goes to school already? We have another five years before then!"

"Not exactly, I'm worried that she doesn't spend enough time with other children. She's becoming a miniature adult instead."

"Are we talking about the same Maia? This is the girl who slipped acne-inducing potion into my soup last month?"

Caroline tried not to laugh at the memory; she had struggled not to laugh whilst telling her daughter off at the time. "I know, but she used to do things like that all the time. That's the only prank I can think of her pulling in the last four months."

Marius sighed, "Well, I for one think it's a good thing. As long as she doesn't get dull, I'm not going to complain."

"That's only because she put the potion in _your_ soup!"

...

Maia sat in the garden, tending to her plants. She was only meant to be doing the weeding; she wasn't allowed to actually pull anything important up. It was one of the tasks that Professor Lupin set for her while he was away. His elderly grandmother was really poorly, so every few weeks he was forced to take time off to go and care for her. It was time like this that she was at her most bored and lonely. Dad kept being called back to London, because, in spite of his retirement it seemed that nobody in the business could really cope without him. She wasn't sure where he was at the moment though. Caroline had recently joined the Women's Institute that met at the church hall, and today she'd gone to help them with a cake sell to raise money for a local homeless shelter. Trixie would be too busy to play with her until the evening.

Maia sighed and looked around at the patch. She had done a rather good job, she thought. This wasn't as fun as making potions, but she did like to watch things grow. As it was a rather fine day, and there was nobody to tell her not to, she had bought her books out into the grounds to study out here. She had a new section of her family tree to learn (they had now got as far back at the 1500s) and after that, she was supposed to read about (another) goblin war.

"What are you doing?" said a loud voice behind her.

Maia jumped up suddenly and dropped her books in a pile on the floor, looking for the voice. "Who's there?" She asked. Two boys, a few years older than herself, clambered out of the hedges. They both had short, spiky blonde hair and ruddy cheeks and wore baseball caps back to front. One of them had a large rip in his jeans. "What are you doing here? My Dad says that this is private property." Maia wasn't sure what private property was, exactly, but it sounded impressive and both of the boys were glaring at her.

"So, what're you going to do about it?" Asked the bigger one.

"Nothing, I'm supposed to be learning but I'm getting bored. Do you want to play? Or are you lost? I can show you how to get out if you like. The grounds are really big, but I know my way around really well."

The smaller one laughed, but the bigger one answered. "Why would we play with a freak like you?"

Maia frowned, "Why are you calling me a freak?"

"Because you're wearing stupid clothes."

Maia looked down at her dark blue robes. "Well, I happen to like them." She wasn't going to rise to their rudeness. Dad said that she had to be decorous at all times.

The smaller one pointed at the plants, "And your flowers look weird too."

"My tutor chose them." She answered. Suddenly, she looked at both of the boys again. "It's a Tuesday, why aren't you both in school?"

The bigger one answered, "Because we're skiving, stupid. Not all of us have stuck-up tutors to boss us around."

Maia frowned at both of them but wasn't sure what to say. She certainly didn't like them calling her stupid though. "I really think you ought to leave, please. My Dad won't like it if he finds you here."

"Make us!" Said the younger of the boys.

"Please go away, you aren't being very nice."

"Please go away, you aren't being very nice!" mimicked to older boy in a stupidly high-pitched voice.

Maia turned to walk back towards the house - she would ignore them, she decided - but suddenly she felt herself pushed to the ground. She tried to stand back up but one of them kicked her, hard, and she fell back down. When she saw another foot coming back towards her she panicked and screamed. Suddenly, both of the boys started screaming as well and backed away from her, covering their red and blistered faces. The backs of their hands were covered in thick, oozing blisters.

Maia looked around her in panic when, suddenly, popping noises filled the air and four fully grown, adult wizards surrounded her, pointing their wands in her direction...

"Daddy!" She screamed.

...

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	10. Don't Judge a Book by its Cover

**I still don't own Harry Potter!**

**Thank you for the reviews and story alerts!**

Chapter Ten

Maia sat nervously on the ground, her hands clasped so tightly in her lap that the knuckles were going white.

The men pointed their wands and both of the boys in turn, first to remove the blisters and burns, and second to whisper a spell that made their faces go oddly blank. When they were done, one of the wizards held a boy under each arm, turned on his heel and vanished. Maia jumped up, "Where is he taking them?"

The other three wizards turned to look at her and she sunk back to the floor, looking at the grass. A youngish looking wizard, with mousey-coloured hair, smiled and said, "It's ok, he's taking them both home. They won't remember anything."

Maia nodded.

An older, sterner wizard walked over to her and pulled her roughly to her feet, "So, missy, are you going to tell us what happened?"

Maia looked at the floor, "I don't know, sir..."

"Don't go getting smart with me, girl-"

"Oh, come off it, Diggory, how old is she anyway, six?"

"Yes, and just set off a _very powerful_ Burning Hex on two muggle boys! She set of the alarm for crimes against muggles!"

The younger wizard nodded, "Yes, but she probably set off the Trace as well... Our office just responded faster. I'm sure it was only accidental magic."

"I didn't mean to!" begged Maia, her face already wet with tears.

"A likely story! You don't set off hexes like that by accident, not that strong, not enough to set off an alarm in the Auror office! You're clearly from a magical family, so who told you that you could use your magic against innocent muggle boys? Come on, spit out your story!"

He still had a tight hold of her shoulders, "Please, sir, you're hurting me! It was an accident!"

"Hey!" came a voice, and Maia looked up to see her mother marching towards the men, her eyes blazing. "I don't care who you are, or who you think you are, but you will let go of my daughter this instant or, heaven help me, I will make sure you live to regret it!"

Maia had never been so pleased to see her mother come home early in all her life, even if she had never seen her quite so... unkempt before. Her hair was falling loose from its elegant knot and her cheeks were flushed and her hands were shaking. He pushed Maia away from him and rounded on Caroline instead.

"Are you threatening me, madam?" Growled the man, pointing his wand at her.

Caroline neither flinched, nor missed a beat, "Not unless you're threatening my daughter."

"Well then, perhaps you would like to explain why your daughter attacked two muggle boys, Mrs..."

"Black."

Maia and Caroline both watched as the three wizards at the back exchanged a knowing look. "I think we've got our answer then." whispered the younger wizard, his tone losing its earlier kindness.

Diggory smirked, "We are an emergency response team from the Auror Office. An alarm was activated indicating an attack against muggles. We have come here to remove evidence of magic, investigate and apprehend the perpetrator." He glanced down at Maia and back at Caroline, "And those responsible for them, of course."

Caroline swallowed. "Maia, would you like to give these _gentlemen_ your version of events." Her eyes never left the wand narrowed between her eyes, and the other wizards were plainly starting to wonder when she would draw her own. If only they knew, the stupid, prejudiced, bigoted people...

"I was just reading, when the boys came out. At first, I asked if they wanted to play, or if they were lost. But then they said no, and they starting making fun of my clothes and the Herbology patch, and of course I couldn't tell them about that because it would break the Secrecy Statute that dad told me about. Anyway, they kept on being mean and I asked them to go away, so they wouldn't, so I decided to leave because dad said I should never be rude back to people unless they're really, really bad. But then they pushed me other and started kicking me and then they were screaming and then you all turned up and pointed your wands at me!" She ended the story with a new and rather impressive set of tears, which were completely and utterly real, and ran towards Caroline who put her arm around her.

"I think that's an adequate explanation, sirs." Said Caroline, icily.

"Not entirely. It doesn't explain why she set off a Burning Hex."

"I beg to differ, _sir_, it was clearly a case of accidental magic."

Diggory frowned, not happy that he was losing this argument. "Accidental magic is very rarely violent and it doesn't explain her rather negative attitude to muggles, does it? Or where she learnt such a violent curse in the first place?"

Caroline laughed coldly. "Perhaps, you people ought to do more research into a situation before you start making accusations and drawing wands-"

"Spare me, Mrs. _Black_," snapped Diggory, "from your platitudes. The reputation of your family precedes you. She has clearly learnt her attitude, regardless of whether or not she was provoked, from her upbringing. As for the hex, she must have learnt it or seen it somewhere in order to have replicated it so strongly."

"And I must beg leave to teach you some manners, in order to be spared the ordeal of listening to your incompetence. It is best not to interrupt someone more acquainted with the facts of the matter yourself, and to then appear a fool in consequence. Had you done your research before you turned up, you would have realised that I, myself, am a muggle and my husband, Marius Black, is a Squib. It is therefore highly unlikely that we have either taught her to hate muggles, or taught her, or even shown her, any magic or hexes. Moreover, you are now threatening me, a muggle, with a wand, and have been doing so for the last fifteen minutes in full view of other Ministry officials and my young daughter, who, given her age, would also be unable to defend herself if subjected to an attack by a fully grown, fully qualified adult wizard. We've had very few dealings with the Ministry over the years, for obvious reasons, but I'm fairly certain that your actions contravene Ministry regulations regarding the protection of muggles."

Diggory's face blanched and all of the other wizards shifted uncomfortably. "Diggory, mate, she's right." Hissed another of the wizards and Diggory looked at his wand in horror, before slowly lowering it to the ground.

"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Black."

"You won't be having it."

"This was clearly an unfortunate understanding."

"You mean, this was a clear demonstration of the Ministry actions being guided by false assumptions with a healthy dash of incompetence."

"She activated the alarm and there were no other witches or wizards within a ten mile radius..."

"So naturally, you immediately corner and manhandle my daughter on suspicion of crimes against muggles, when she is a six years old and has close muggle relations and was attacked by aforementioned muggles, which thus led to accidental magic."

"It was a very strong hex..."

"Which only highlights how threatened she felt herself to be, and that she will one day be a very competent witch."

"Yes, Mrs. Black. I'm very sorry, Mrs. Black."

"Forgive me if I doubt the sincerity of your emotions, as you are now clearly trying to cover your own back. I suggest you remove yourselves from my property instantaneously."

None of them required any further encouragement.

...

Marius Black was still fuming four days later, after having sent a number of infuriated howlers to the Ministry and having received many apologies, the promise of an inquiry and a hefty lump of compensation in return.

None of that meant anything thought when he remembered how he had returned home to find his wife still shaking three hours after then event and his young daughter jumpy, tearful, and convinced that the Ministry were still going to come back and take her away. If he could have got his hands on those boys who also thought they could kick his daughter and get away with it, that too would also have been rather nice...

Over the last few days, Maia had calmed down. Remus was back and they had resumed their lessons as normal. Caroline had even come to be rather proud of her moment of righteous indignation. Marius, however, could not calm down and had no way to mollify his own perception of events. Muggles had attacked his daughter and Ministry officials had manhandled and interrogated her, and insulted Caroline.

The incompetence of the department had even caught the attention of the Prophet, who had then dedicated a whole page to the story. He wouldn't have minded so much if they hadn't described himself and Caroline as so woefully and pitifully defenceless. It was not how he wanted to be viewed by the wizarding world, though he was not so arrogant as to think that they were really interested in him. It was a matter of personal pride, nevertheless. Dumbledore had even sent them another letter, demanding a detailed response and his own version of events and analysis of Maia's interpretation. Did he think it had influenced her perception of muggles? Was she starting to display a negative attitude towards them? Or perhaps the Ministry? Did he have any idea how she had produced such a strong hex?

Marius had to admit that his response was rather curt. In short, he asked Dumbledore if he really thought such questions were appropriate, and if he would really be asking for them if it were not for Maia's true father. He knew that, over the years, he was guilty of worrying that Maia would turn out like Sirius, but she was six years old and had reacted out of fear. If she had been sixteen, it would have been very different. But the point was, that she was not.

As yet, Dumbledore had not responded.

Marius sighed wearily when he heard the tell-tell tapping at the window. Of course, Dumbledore would not take the hint that he was offended and leave him alone. He opened the window and reached out for the letter, opening it without even looking at the seal:

_Marius,_

_I have to say, I thought that you died years ago. It would seem, however, that you are alive and, more than that, that you have bred with the muggle filth you married and somehow, that you produced a witch as a daughter. _

_Yes, I read the article in the Prophet. _

_Anyway, thank Merlin that you managed to have a witch. Your shame would have only been made more complete had your wife given you another useless muggle like herself. As it stands, it would seem that you must have some magic in you. Out of the goodness of my heart, I am obliged to consider your daughter a half-blood and may, even, acknowledge her as my relative if she proves satisfactory in her magical progression. From what I gather in the Prophet, she produced an outstanding Burning Hex. For a witch so young, even I am almost inclined to consider it an impressive feat._

_In consequence, I invite your daughter to afternoon tea tomorrow in order to discuss her magical education. You and your wife will obviously be incapable of managing such an important and delicate task. Nevertheless, you are invited to accompany Maia Violetta if you feel the journey is too long for one so young. Don't bring your wife, she will not be welcomed._

_I expect a prompt reply,_

_Cassiopeia Black._

Marius thought that he might actually be sick.

...

**Reviews please : )**


	11. Into the Snake Pit

**Nope, I still don't own Harry Potter!**

**Also, thank you again for all reviews etc. I thought I ought to answer some of them, so here goes...**

**Maia is the same age as the 'Golden Trio' but she's a few months older than Harry. She's living in Somerset at the moment, so I'm not sure how she and Hermione would meet up. (I'm not sure where Hermione would have lived, but given her reference to walking down Tottenham Court Road, I've always imagined her in the London suburbs). However, she and Hermione will have a 'run in' on the Hogwarts Express (that's all I'm going to admit to for now!) Also, it won't be too long before Sirius makes an appearance and I'm also pleased that you feel I've got Remus right. Also, sorry if poor Maia's been having a hard time, but I've got a lot more chapters written (and even more planned) than I've published, so there's some fluff coming up soon. **

**I think I've covered most things, sorry for filling up the top of the page! **

Chapter Eleven

Remus lent back in his chair, flicking through his rather battered copy of _Hogwarts: A History_. He had set Maia the task of producing a simple Headache Soothing Potion, allowing her to make it all by herself, while he pretended not to pay any attention in the far corner of the room (as if he would really ever leave a six year old alone with a large cauldron of boiling liquid with a fire lit beneath it for good measure). He had to say he was rather pleased with how she was getting on. She didn't even appear that nervous; she had quite a flair for potions already. He could probably have stopped watching if he felt inclined.

He was also happy to say that she didn't seem overly effected by the Ministry-fiasco. She was using less magic in her pranks, but no one was going to complain that she was being more circumspect in her magic. She was _supposed_ to follow the Statute of Secrecy, after all. That was the reason that she wouldn't be doing much wand magic with him. At least, not at an address registered to a muggle and a Squib. Besides, she was quite inventive in her mischief. Magic was not her only weapon. The ability to hide from and outrun both her parents was also a distinct advantage.

He looked across at her and smiled. She had her tongue stuck out one side of her mouth the same way Black used to do when he was concentrating. That, and the pranking, were the only real similarities he had seen between her and her father. She could be haughty, like both Marius and Caroline, and any Black for that matter, but she had, at base, Caroline's sweet disposition and Marlene's quick mind.

Both Remus and Maia looked up when they heard a soft knock on the door and saw Marius standing there. "Am I disturbing you?" He asked. He brushed a non-existent speck of dust from the sleeve of his finely tailored suit.

Remus stood up, "Maia, how much longer do you think you'll need?"

She frowned, "Actually, I think it's finished."

"Are you sure it's brewed for long enough?"

She frowned again, stood up on her tiptoes, and peered into the cauldron. Marius winced to see her lean so far over. "Yes." She said confidently.

Marius nodded. "Good, then if you don't mind, I need to speak to Professor Lupin. You may go and play in the grounds or find your mother until he sends for you again."

"Yes, father." She said, hopping down from her stool and walking out of the room.

Marius smiled and indicted for Remus to join him at the table. "She's finally starting to put the etiquette lessons into practice." He said nervously.

Remus tilted his head ever so slightly. He had very rarely heard Marius Black sound nervous. "Marius," he said, switching to first name terms now that Maia was out of the room, "what's the matter."

Marius sighed and handed the letter across the table, covering his face with his free hand. Remus read the letter and paled. "What are you going to do?"

"I suppose I'll have to take her."

"You have to be joking, Marius. The woman's a she-devil."

"She's never been actively involved in the Dark Arts, as far as I understand."

"Have you read this letter? Seriously, Marius, have you actually _read_ it?"

Marius sighed and shook his head, still hidden behind his hand. "Yes, I know. I know. But I can't refuse."

"You can and you should!"

"She's my sister. She is Maia's aunt, when's all said and done. It would be good for her to become integrated with her magical family."

Remus bit his tongue, but he knew that he couldn't stand up now and tell the truth, not after he'd kept it secret for so long. Maia was happy here, and well cared for. He had no desire to upset that. He also had no desire to lose contact with her and were Marius and Caroline to find out that he was her Godfather, her actual legal guardian, he would no doubt find himself out on his ear. But to let Marlene's daughter, _his _Goddaughter, come under the influence of that despicable woman...

"Obviously, you must do what you feel is best, but haven't you always wanted to keep her away from your more... unsavoury relatives."

"Yes, and my first reaction was to refuse. I even wrote half the letter. But I know that if I did, she would just turn up here and demand to see her. That would be much worse. It will only have to be one visit, we do have her education in hand, after all, and, perhaps, Cassiopeia will know other children of Maia's own age. She might still be in contact with other old families. She does need to have friends. I know she's happy, but since the Rosie and Holly incident she's been very isolated. She's grown up a lot very quickly and I don't want her to miss any of her childhood."

Remus sighed. He was fighting a losing battle. And it would only be one visit. And it might be good for Maia to meet children her own age... even if they were the offspring of old-school purebloods. Yet he had a sinking feeling... this was what he had vowed to prevent. And he knew this was what Marius had vowed to prevent as well. Why did plans, the best of plans, always get tossed to the wayside...?

...

The dark, smoke-stained gothic house in the Lancashire landscape loomed above Marius and Maia as they approached it. Remus had bought them here via side-along apparation. He would be waiting for them both in the nearby pub.

The whole area conveyed a sense of desolation. Many years ago, many many years ago in fact, this area had been beautiful open countryside. Then, it had been a major centre of heavy industry. Now, the nearby redbrick factory with its high chimney stood silent. The worker's houses, row after row of them, were run-down and filled with tenants who had long ago given up on the hope of finding gainful employment. The pits had just closed as well after a series of fruitless, and brutally crushed, strikes. It was a place that most people, especially the government, tried their best to forget about.

However, the mansion, which was set just back from this semi-urban sprawl, had also seen better days, even if it had never been seen by the muggles who lived on all sides of it. All they saw was another outbuilding of the long since abandoned factory. This had been one of the major Black properties for generations, and they weren't going to leave just because some uppity muggles moved in around them, built factories, and ruined the brickwork. No, they were Blacks and they would stay. There were, however, only two Blacks left here now. And both they and the house had seen better days.

Marius reached up to ring the doorbell, when the door itself was pulled open by a wizened old house-elf. "The Mistress says you is to be joining her in the drawing room." He wheezed.

Cassiopeia Andromeda Black had never married. She was a spinster in all the worse senses of the word. Her house was filled with cats. All the rooms were spotlessly clean, and covered with lace doilies and paintings of yet more cats. Having never made a life of her own, she clung to her ancestral traditions. As a result, the walls were lined with decapitated house-elves. She was priggish, prudish and pedantic. She believed that children should be seen and not heard. She dressed herself in clothes worthy of an Edwardian matron and had set herself her task, along with her only friend and widowed sister-in-law Irma Black nee Crabbe, of making sure that the next generation was raised _correctly_.

She did not rise when Marius and Maia entered the room, merely gestured disdainfully for them to sit opposite her. The house-elf appeared promptly with a pot of Assam tea, scones, clotted cream, strawberry and blackcurrant jam and cucumber sandwiches with white bread and the crusts removed. So far, no one had spoken.

Marius leant forward to pour the tea.

"Don't be so uncouth, Marius." Cassiopeia scolded, "I am the hostess,_ I_ am supposed to pour. _You_ are supposed to pass the cups and saucers back to the guests."

"Of course, Cassiopeia."

There was an extended silence.

"How is Pollux?"

"Dead."

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

"I didn't want to lower the tone of his funeral."

Marius stood, "Come along, Maia, we're leaving." Maia stood up obediently, before Cassiopeia commanded them both to sit in such a tone that they complied without thought.

"I have not invited you here to drag up old arguments." Marius blustered but Cassiopeia continued without acknowledging him. "We are here to discuss Maia Violetta's education."

"Her education is already in hand."

"Really?" said Cassiopeia, soundly highly unconvinced.

"Yes, I have engaged a tutor. He's a very competent fellow. She's learning Herbology, Potions, Astrology and History of Magic, mostly, as well as Wizarding Genealogy, Etiquette and ensuring that she develops a good writing style."

"But no practical magic?"

"No, not yet."

"And what about music and dancing? Is she learning to paint? She must learn to be accomplished. Are you teaching her rhetoric? Which languages is she studying? She ought to know Latin, at the very least, and in this day and age you would be well well-advised to have her learn French, Runes and perhaps Gobbledegook or Mermish."

Marius opened and closed his mouth.

"From your expression, I gather you have not. And what about society? Has she been introduced to society? I am aware of her unfortunate blood-status but she nevertheless bears the name of Black and has displayed a sufficient level of competency in her magic that I have decided she should be admitted into our circle."

Maia looked up at the two adults, wondering what on earth was going on and if anyone would notice if she helped herself to her third scone. Then, suddenly, she felt the gaze of the woman turn on her.

"She does so look like our darling Bellatrix. It would be a shame to let her go to waste. The early years are so critical. She can remain, of course, under her current tutor for the most part. You have managed to cover the basics, at least Marius. However, I feel that she should spend her Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays here. The other children all have private tutors as well, but Irma and I conduct the rest of the classes here then. She must join them. You wouldn't deny her the best education, would you? Or the chance to be admitted into the circles of our very first families?"

...


	12. Educating Maia

**Would you believe it? I still don't own Harry Potter...**

Chapter Twelve

Adults, Maia had decided over the course of the last week, were ridiculous creatures. There had been much whispering, many conversations, numerous arguments, and Professor Lupin had almost stormed out of the house, until dad persuaded him otherwise.

In the end, it had been her mother who cast the deciding vote (throughout the entire process none of them had thought to ask her what she wanted) and announced that she would be attending Aunt Irma's and Aunt Cassiopeia's classes. Apparently, the educational, and more importantly social, advantages were too significant. Caroline wanted her daughter to mix with the right 'sort', regardless of whether or not the right 'sort' were muggles or magical. There was a reason her school fees had been equal to the cost of a rather nice car. Though at this point, Caroline would have been thrilled to throw Maia in a room with any children under the age of ten, regardless of what 'sort' she thought they were.

So, it was now Thursday and she was standing in front of the fireplace, clutching a handful of floo powder in her fist.

"If you don't like it, you can come back straight away." Said Professor Lupin, "I can teach you Latin, if you want, and anything else for that matter."

"Nonsense," hushed Caroline, smoothing the fabric of Maia's new robe "don't listen to him. You're going to have a wonderful day and meet lots of new children and make lots of new friends. Of course, if you really aren't happy, you can come home whenever you want. But just give it a try. I'm sure you'll have a fantastic day."

Marius rolled his eyes. Caroline was so desperate for Maia to 'interact', as she put it, that she was blinding herself to the danger of the situation. But then, he was not in the habit of denying his wife anything... And there were advantages, he supposed... "Make sure you behave yourself, and mind your manners." He said, stiffly. It was good for her to be accepted in the wizarding world, he didn't want her to share his shame, or feel she was an outcast, or ought to make herself an outcast, because of what had happened to him all those years ago.

Maid nodded, "Yes, father." She turned to the fireplace, tossed in the powder and watched the flames turn green. She said the address clearly and stepped into the grate, suddenly overcome by the sense that she'd been thrown over a cliff.

She stood up, coughing, and climbed out of the fireplace on the other end, brushing the dust off her. Two elderly women – even older than her parents – were waiting for her. They both wore black dresses trimmed with lace and broaches clasped at their throats. Both wore their hair wound tightly in buns on top of their heads. They both appeared very stern.

"Is this her?" Asked one.

"Yes." Replied the other, who Maia recognised her as Aunt Cassiopeia. "Maia Violetta, come here and be introduced to your aunt."

Maia walked forwards slowly, careful to do everything that Professor Lupin and her father had taught her. She stopped just before the two women and curtseyed deeply. "Good morning, Aunt Cassiopeia. Thank you very much for allowing me to come."

Aunt Cassiopeia nodded stiffly. The girl wasn't half as bad as she had expected, and her expectations had been very negative. "Irma, this is our niece Maia Violetta Black, Maia Violetta, this is your Aunt Irma Black, nee Crabbe."

Cassiopeia looked the girl up and down again. She had a duty to ensure that her niece, her _magical_, niece was raised correctly. Her unfortunate heritage was not her fault and she showed a great deal of_ magical_ promise. A full Burning Hex, at her age... Even darling Bellatrix wouldn't have been able to do that. Sometimes, when blood was mixed, there could be positive results. The blood traitor Andromeda had given birth to a Metamorphmagi after wedding the mudblood. It was possible that there could be something special about this half-blood as well. It was rare for a Squib to have a magical child, after all...

Maia dropped into another curtsey. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Aunt Irma."

"And I you." Replied Aunt Irma, though her enthusiasm did sound rather non-existent.

"Maia, I understand that you have done very well in your lessons so far. However, you haven't covered any of what we will be teaching you. On Thursdays, we concentrate on languages. You will be learning French and Latin to start with, with the other younger children. Then, as you get older, you will also learn Gobbledegook. You will be behind, but if you apply yourself, you will catch up."

"Yes, Aunt Cassiopeia, thank you."

"Good, then, on Fridays, we often practice rhetoric and may put on some plays." Maia couldn't help but beam. This was starting to sound like an awful lot of fun. Why had dad been so against it? "On Saturdays we practice our music or do painting. For now, it is your choice, but as you get older, you will be expected to do both." Cassiopeia paused, to make sure that Maia was keeping up. Maia nodded enthusiastically. "So, would you like to paint, or would you like to learn an instrument?"

"I would like to learn an instrument, please." There was a huge piano back home that she'd tried to open many times with very little success.

"You will learn to play both the piano and the harp."

"Thank you, Aunt Cassiopeia, Aunt Irma."

"Very well. I'm pleased that you have learnt your manners so well already. These lessons aren't just to make you good at magic, although we will start to teach you magic as you get closer to your Hogwarts years. The aim is make sure that you are a good representative for your family name. You must learn to walk proudly and confidently, to express yourself elegantly, to be able to hold a good conversation and do yourself justice in any social situation. Now, if you will follow me, I teach the younger children. Aunt Irma teaches the older ones."

Aunt Irma walked away quickly, without saying anything else to her. Maia followed Cassiopeia nervously; she didn't know any of these other children. At the muggle school she had always been popular, but what if these children didn't like her? Rosie and Holly had stopped liking her so quickly! And she had already decided that this was not a home in which pranks and jokes were welcomed.

They turned into a side room where a number of children were sitting at a wide wooden dining table, much like the one she shared with Professor Lupin, and they all stood up when Cassiopeia entered the room.

"Good morning children."

"Good morning Aunt Cassiopeia." They chorused.

Cassiopeia gestured towards Maia, "Children, this is your cousin Maia Violetta Black. She will be joining us from now on. Who can tell me which constellation the star Maia is in?"

All the hands rose into the air, and Cassiopeia pointed at the only other girl in the room. "The star Maia is in the Taurus constellation, Aunt Cassiopeia."

"Very good, Daphne."

"Who was the last person to carry the first name Violetta in the Black family tree?"

A chubby, golden haired boy raised his hand. Cassiopeia nodded, "Violetta Bulstrode, who married Cygnus Black."

"Very good, Ernst. Now, I want all of you to come here and properly introduce yourself to your cousin."

The children all moved back from the table, Maia thought that they were oddly well behaved, but then even she didn't have the nerve to dispute Aunt Cassiopeia. The lined up in front of her and came forwards to introduce themselves one at a time. The boys bowed, while the two girls both curtseyed to each other. Maia was pleased that there weren't too many names to remember. The girl was called Daphne Greengrass and Maia thought that she was very pretty and grown-up, although they were the same age. The next two boys were called Vincent and Gregory. Then there was a boy with pale blonde hair who smiled at her when he introduced himself as Draco Malfoy. Then came the last boy, Ernst Macmillan. His blonde hair was more golden than Draco's and he had round, flushed cheeks. He seemed more friendly than any of the others. Then, she was sent to her seat, told off for slouching, and proceeded to spend the next few hours reciting French grammar. At first, it was dull. Then, when she realised that she understood it faster than Vincent and Gregory already, she really started to enjoy it.

When the clock struck twelve, Aunt Cassiopeia dismissed them to go and help themselves to lunch, which the house-elves had laid out in the next room. She followed her cousins (apparently, they were all her cousins to a greater or lesser extent) and gawped when she saw the tables in the next room. They were practically groaning under the weight of the food. There was even a Victoria sponge cake. She turned to Daphne, "Is there always this much food?"

"Oh yes, they don't want us to get hungry when they make us study so hard. The older children eat in the next room. They keep us separate so that we don't bother them. They're all the ones who are going to Hogwarts in the next two years. Then some of the others come back to study over the holidays as well."

"Oh, who are they?"

"Cedric Diggory's here at the moment, although Cassiopeia and Uncle Amos had a huge argument after he tried to arrest you. I read the paper as well, and he almost didn't come back, but they make up in the end. Then there's Mecurius and Numitor Avery, they're a year apart. Then there's my big sister Queenie. She's going to Hogwarts in September with Mecurius, so she'll be a fourth year when we start. Everyone else is at school now."

Maia blushed, "I'm sorry they argued about it."

Ernst – who had told her to call him Ernie the moment Aunt Cassiopeia was out of earshot - walked over to them and handed them a plate each. "Here you go, ladies. And you shouldn't feel sorry for it at all though, Maia, it's hardly your fault they behaved so barbarically. My father says they should have been sent to Azkaban. Pointing a wand at a muggle!"

Together, the three of them made their way over to the buffet, and Maia started to load her plate with food. "Mother was really angry about it, but she was very brave." She said.

Draco turned round from picking up his second slice of cake, "Is it true then? That your mother's a muggle?"

"Yes."

"And your father's a Squib?"

"Yes."

Draco chewed his lip. "So you're not a pureblood then, not really?"

"Draco!" cried Ernie, rushing to her defence.

"No, but it seems that you're stuck with me as a cousin anyway."

Draco looked her up and down, "Well, you certainly look like a Black." He smiled, "My mother was a Black before she married my father. So I guess that means that we're proper family. I'll look out for you, I won't let any of them give you hassle when we get to Hogwarts."

Maia scoffed, "Who says you won't need me to look after you, cousin?"

Draco paused, but then mum had already told him that she might have been bought up oddly. Maybe she didn't know what it meant to be a pureblood and that when she was sorted into Slytherin – they would all go to Slytherin, of course – some of the older students might be mean? Mum had said that he would have to be tactful around her. If Aunt Cassiopeia wanted her to be taught with the family, she might even have her recognised. It wouldn't do to upset her. Draco looked at her again. She certainly looked like all the other Blacks on the family tree back home and she was probably his closet relative her. He'd been watching her during the lessons and already knew that she was smart, and she seemed funny and had guts as well. She'd probably be a useful friend to have; she might even be a fun friend to have. He decided then that he'd be better that tactful to her. He'd look out for her and make sure she got on ok. He quite liked imagining himself in some kind of big brother role. Anyway, he wouldn't upset or worry her about the whole Slytherin/pureblood thing now. Instead, he just laughed, "We'll see about that!"

And, of course, he couldn't upset or disobey his mother when she had told him to be nice. Father had told him to ignore her, of course, but mother had been so happy to find another Black. Father might care if he knew, but he would probably never notice. And to care, he had to notice.

The four children spent the rest of their break chatting on the sofas, while Vincent and Gregory remained within closer reach of the buffet. The rest of the afternoon was spent learning Latin, and they went home at four. Draco, Daphne and Ernie all said they were looking forward to seeing her tomorrow. Draco even said that his dad was taking them all to a Quidditch match on Sunday, and he'd try and get him to book her a ticket at well.

Maia was practically bursting with excitement when she jumped into the fire to take her home.

...

Trixie beamed when Marius thanked her for their wonderful dinner – toad in the hole – and Caroline said that she had, once again, outdone herself.

As they waited for their pudding, Caroline asked Maia to, once again, tell her about the other children there. Maia had to fight the urge to roll her eyes, while Marius gave into temptation.

"There were two boys who I didn't talk to much, but Ernie was very friendly. I spent most of my free time talking to him, Daphne and Draco. Daphne's ridiculously pretty and very girly, I think, but I liked her anyway. Draco was also nice. He seemed very surprised that neither of you could do magic, but we got on really well. He said his dad might be able to take me to a real Quidditch match on Sunday. The lessons were fun, Latin is more fun than French. Aunt Cassiopeia and Aunt Irma are both really strict and a bit grumpy –" Marius snorted into his wine, and Caroline glared at him for daring to interrupt this wonderful moment where their daughter spoke about children her own age, rather than her private tutor or her house elf –"but I don't think they're too bad. I think they're just really old."

"That's simply wonderful, sweetheart. So you want to go again tomorrow?"

"Yes, mum. I have told you this six times already."

"I know, dear." Said Caroline, smiling happily to herself.

Even Marius, that night as he climbed into bed, couldn't help but smile. He was concerned about Cassiopeia and the other children, but his concerns were decreasing. The wizarding world had been at war barely a few years before, surely that had taught them to lessen their prejudice? More than that, Cassiopeia at least had had time to mellow with age. It seemed that way, now that his darling daughter, his beautiful daughter, would be taught with the best of the wizarding world. His daughter, the daughter of a muggle and a Squib, was mixing with the finest, raised to their level. He had always wanted to give her everything. He would have laid all the gold and silver in the world at her feet if he could have. Yet, more than anything else, he wanted to see her smile. He wanted to see her happy. And now she was.

The lessons would continue.

...


	13. Flying Without Wings

**Nope, I still don't own Harry Potter. **

**Just to clarify, Maia is six, going on seven, although this chapter would have cleared that up anyway. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed; let me know if there's anything you want improved or if there's anything that you like in particular. : ) **

Chapter Thirteen

The next few days at Aunt Irma's and Aunt Cassiopeia's days whirled past Maia. She was so happy, the hours flew by. She loved her lessons. She loved learning Latin and French. Her piano lesson with Aunt Cassiopeia had been brilliant. When they had put on a play - _Gwendolyn and Gawain_ by Llewelyn ap Dafydd, a Welsh wizard from the 13th century – she had been allowed to play Gwendolyn and had greatly enjoyed screaming and wailing on stage over the death of her husband Gawain (Draco) after he had been murdered in his sleep by English muggles (Vincent and Gregory). Her murderous rampage had earned her particular praise from Aunt Irma.

The only downside to her week came on Saturday morning, when Draco told her that his father had been unable to get an extra ticket to the Quidditch match on Sunday, the Arrows vs. the Harpies. However, he assured her that it was only because it was the last match of the season and that the tickets had been sold out for ages. He promised that he would take her the next time his father bought tickets. She couldn't be sad about it for long though, when there was so much else going on in the house.

She was generally too happy to see the worried look on her dad's face when she said that Mr. Malfoy had been unable to get tickets.

Of course, Marius did not know Lucius Malfoy, but he knew the _Malfoys_. If the head of the House of Malfoy had really wanted Maia to come, then he could easily have procured her a ticket. It didn't take much to work out why he didn't want her there. Yet Marius smiled wryly to think how much it must annoy the man to know that his half-blood daughter was now getting the same treatment as his precious pureblood son. Of course, Maia was really a pureblood as well, but that was a moot point, all things considered.

Marius also consoled himself with the thought that the son was being perfectly friendly to Maia. Children didn't have to be like their parents, after all. Maia was living proof of that. The experiment, in his mind, was going well. She was mixing with children her own age, making friends and so far (although it had only been a few days) didn't seem to have turned into a blood-purist. Cassiopeia had even written him a fairly reasonable letter earlier that Saturday informing him that Maia was an 'acceptable' child. She hadn't referred to Caroline, but given her last letter, he conceded that was probably her being nice.

However, he was somewhat concerned that when Maia woke the next morning – on Sunday, the day of the Quidditch match – that she would suddenly feel left out from her new friends. He looked at the clock on his mantelpiece. Surely it wasn't that late, not if he hurried...

...

Maia woke suddenly the next morning, and rather unpleasantly. The sound of her mother's screeching filled the air, the whole house in fact.

"You bought her a WHAT?" screamed Caroline, her voice ripping through the various decibels.

Maia sat straight up in her bed. The 'her' must mean they were talking about her. If something was 'bought' it must mean she was getting a present. And if mum was furious, that must mean it was something really, really cool. She jumped out of bed and ran down the stairs two at a time, pausing at the bottom to listen to her parents argue in the drawing room.

"Really, darling, I think you're overreacting..." Marius' voice trailed away pitifully. His surprise had seemed like a much better idea thirteen hours ago when he had walked into the shop.

Maia paused, what could she be getting? An owl? An owl would be cool, or a cat? A wand? Had dad finally got her a wand? She knew that Daphne already had one, and Ernie, though they did really get to use them. Oh please, please Merlin, let it be a wand!

"REALLY? REALLY? I'm overreacting? You think I'm over-reacting? She's SIX years old, Marius!"

Please be a wand...

"She's almost seven now, dear."

"What's wrong with the one she's already got?"

Oh, so it wasn't a wand then. What was it? Wait...

"Well, that's only a children's broom and she is a good flyer already. I spoke to the chap in the shop-"

However Marius planned to redeem himself in his wife's eyes with that sentence was lost on both of them, because at that moment, Maia could contain herself no longer. She stood up, hurtled through the double doors and threw herself into her dad's arms. "You got me a broom? A real broom? You're the best Dad EVER!" She cried, squeezing him again tightly. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! I'll never do anything wrong ever again."

Marius couldn't help beaming smugly at Caroline as he hugged her back and placed her on the ground. Maia turned on her mother, "Oh please, mum, please let me keep it, please!"

Caroline rolled her eyes and went to pour herself a cup of tea, not even deigning to respond.

Too excited to really care, Maia turned back on her father, unable to stand still even for a moment. "What make is it? What's the balance like? When can I see it?" Her questions came so fast they were jumbled together.

"Now Maia, calm down," said her father slowly, "I spoke to the chap in the shop and your mother's right, you are very young still." Caroline made a disgruntled noise as she buttered her toast. "So don't go expecting the new Cleansweep 5. I've got you a Shooting Star. I know it's older and slower than other makes, but it's very safe and reliable and will let you go faster and higher than your toy broom. But, we are going to have some rules."

Maia's face fell.

"You are not allowed to go any higher than the trees in the grounds and you are not allowed to play unless Trixie or Professor Lupin are watching you."

"Why, Dad?"

"Because if you fall, neither your mother nor I will be able to do anything to help you and we don't want you to get hurt. The tree rule ties into this, but also, we don't want any muggles to see you, do we?"

Maia thought for a second. She didn't want any muggles to see her, that might mean the Ministry would come and she never wanted to meet Mr. Diggory again. She also didn't like the sound of plummeting to her death from her broom. She sighed. "Ok dad, I suppose that makes sense." She supposed the tress in the gardens were rather tall anyway. She paused for less than a second. "Can I ride it now?"

Marius laughed. "No, you can eat your breakfast and then wait an hour for your food to go down. I'm not having you make yourself sick. Then you can go and ask Trixie to watch you while you fly."

Maia nodded, it was probably better to do as she was told, she didn't want to get into trouble and be banned from flying before she'd even had one go. "And let me know when you do, I want to watch." Said Marius.

"Mum, are you going to watch as well?"

"Absolutely not." She said haughtily. "I don't care if you're a witch or not. You're still human, and if humans were meant to fly they'd have been born with wings."

Maia pulled a face and Marius picked her up to carry her over to her seat at the dining room table, "Don't worry, she's exactly the same way about aeroplanes."

...


	14. The Lies of Cassiopeia Black

**I still don't own Harry Potter...**

**I do hope you're all still enjoying the story though. **

Chapter Fourteen

Maia smiled as Professor Lupin walked through the door. He couldn't help smiling back at her. Then, when she produced both a painting she had made for him, and a set of handwriting exercises which she claimed to have been working on since 5am that morning, he began to grow suspicious. Clearly, she was either trying to lull him into a false sense of security because she had something planned, or she'd done something wrong already and was hoping he wouldn't notice.

He sat at the table and groaned at her oh-so-innocent-face. Black had used that look as well whenever he wanted to get in McGonagall's good books again after falling out of favour.

"Very well, Maia, you may as well just tell me."

"Tell you what, Professor Lupin?" she asked sweetly.

"Whatever it is you need to tell me."

"Well, it's more a matter of asking..."

"Go on." Well, what was it? Perhaps she wanted to know if she would be allowed to practice the Cruciatus Curse with him. No doubt that was what Cassiopeia had her doing. He'd had Marius pegged as many things, but never a fool.

"Dad bought me a broom as a present, a real broom, a Shooting Star, but he said I couldn't play on it unless you or Trixie were there to watch. Trixie watched me for an hour yesterday, but then felt so bad that she wanted to punish herself because she wasn't cleaning and I had to beg her not to get upset and now I don't want to ask her again. Please, please will you stay after lessons so I can fly? Please, Professor Lupin, I want to be good. Maybe if I practise hard I can make it onto the Quidditch team when I'm in Hogwarts! If you say yes I promise I'll behave!"

Remus laughed out loud. Her face was so twisted and pleading it was truly a sight to behold. Here was Maia, his Maia, still sat in front of him, still the same Maia he had seen last Thursday. He hadn't felt this thankful or happy in years.

"Of course! I'd be happy to. Which team do you think you'll be playing for though?"

"I don't know. Everyone says that children usually go into the same House as their parents, but mum and dad didn't go. Which House were you in?"

"Me? I was a Gryffindor, where the brave and noble dwell." He pretended to puff out his chest proudly, "Where do you think your parents would have been Sorted?"

Maia paused for a second. "Mum would have been a Hufflepuff, without a doubt. She's too nice and a total pushover, expect about flying. She's still angry about the broom. I saw her watching from the window and thought she was going to cry. She doesn't think that it's safe. I'm not sure where dad would be. He's really brainy, so maybe Ravenclaw, or Slytherin. Draco says we're all going to be in Slytherin together, because that's the tradtion."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you'll be. The Sorting Hat will let you choose if you want, I'm sure. And you're your own person, as well as a Black."

Maia shrugged, "I don't really mind where I go. I just want to go to Hogwarts. If I got to be in a House with Draco or Ernie or Daphne that would be best, then we'll all be together."

Remus nodded, "Maybe." Although, in his heart of hearts, he secretly wanted her to be a Gryffindor like Marlene and himself, though she could just as easily go into Ravenclaw if she carried on studying the way she was. "Anyway, if you want to fly, we need to do some work first."

Maia groaned.

"I thought you promised to be good?"

"Of course, Professor Lupin, what would you like to teach me?" She smiled sweetly, quill poised in hand as she sat up a little straighter in her chair.

...

Come Thursday, Maia was rather pleased that her dad had given her the broom. All the others were chatting about the Quidditch game when she arrived, so it was nice to be able to say that she had had a good weekend as well, even though she hadn't seen the game. As Cassiopeia began to usher them into the room, Draco pulled her aside, "I'm really sorry about the match. I begged dad to get you a ticket but it was all sold out. I really meant it when I said I wanted you to come."

"It's alright. I don't mind."

"That's so cool about your broom though. I wish my dad would buy me a real broom. I've still got a stupid toy one."

"Well, you can come and visit and ride it if you like."

"Really?"

"Yes, my mum and dad won't mind, I'm sure. And they usually let me get my own way anyway." She added proudly.

"Draco, Maia, be quiet or I'll lock you in the cupboard with the boggart, and don't fool yourselves into thinking that I make empty threats." Aunt Cassiopeia snarled, banging the flat of her hand down on the gleaming ebony table.

Daphne looked over at them both darkly, "It's true, she doesn't" she mouthed, with a haunted look in her eye.

...

The weeks flew by and quickly turned into months. Before Maia knew it, the day of her seventh birthday had arrived. She couldn't quite believe it. She was seven! In exactly four years time she would get her Hogwarts letter! She, Draco, Daphne and Ernie would all be boarding the train together, and Vincent and Gregory as well, she supposed. Though maybe they'd be too stupid to get in, she thought quietly to herself. She'd barely been studying for two months but her Latin and French were better than theirs already, and they had been studying for a year! Now she was as good as Draco, and would soon catch up with Daphne and Ernie. She couldn't wait to learn Gobbledegook, or better still, real magic with a real wand.

Outside of her room, she could hear her mum humming. Maia wasn't sure it was possible, but she thought her mum was more excited about her birthday than she was. She was having a birthday party after all, and her mum loved to throw parties. And she was having friends over, and mum had spent every mealtime gushing over how wonderful it would be to have the house filled with children. Sometimes, Maia wondered why her parents had only ever had her when mum clearly wanted more. It would be fun to have a little brother or sister, then she could boss them around when she wanted to, and leap to their defence when anyone else gave them any hassle. Or she could have been a twin, then she would definitely have a friend when she got to Hogwarts! (She didn't like to admit it, but part of her was still worried that Draco or Ernie or Daphne might 'do a Holly and Rosie' on her and decide not to be her friend anymore).

Before she could get upset though, her mum came bouncing into the room. "Good morning birthday girl!"

"Morning, mum."

"Are you all ready for your party?"

"No, but I know you are."

And it was true, Caroline was. Before Maia had even finished her sentence, she'd been pulled out of bed and was being dressed in a brand-new pair of sky-blue dress robes.

"These will look lovely with your eyes."

Maia fought back the temptation to roll the aforementioned eyes. Then, her hair was brushed, and combed, and split in half with the bottom half hanging loose to her waist and the top tied up in a matching blue bow.

"Now, come and have some breakfast. Everyone will be here at 11."

"Yes, mum, I know, mum." She was starting to think this party was more for her mum than herself.

Still, things got better when she saw the pile of gifts (and the pile was bigger than herself) in the corner of the drawing room that would be the party room. Things got even better at half past ten when Draco jumped out of the fireplace. He'd been to visit a few times already to fly on Maia's broom, although none of the others had. He ran across to Maia and hugged her, "Happy birthday cousin." Maia squealed in excitement.

Lucius Malfoy then stepped out of the fire grate, just as Marius and Caroline walked through the door to see what the commotion was about. Lucius' face was torn between a grimace and a sneer. He turned towards Caroline and Marius. "My apologies..." he paused, as if not sure what to call them, "I expressly told my son that he was to wait for eleven, but he disobeyed me." He fixed a cold glare on his son, who instantly tensed.

"I'm sorry, father."

Draco seemed very penitent, even a little scared, thought Maia. She'd have to ask him how he did that. If she looked that way when dad or Professor Lupin told her off, she was sure that she'd never really get in trouble again.

"Yes... we shall discuss it when you return."

"Yes, father."

Maia looked up at Mr. Malfoy. He wasn't half as friendly as Draco was.

Lucius Malfoy turned to her, "I presume you are Miss. Black?" He smiled, although the effect was rather odd on his face. She'd never met Mr. Malfoy before. Usually Draco's mum bought him and while she wasn't a particularly sunny person, she was nowhere near as bad as her husband.

"Yes, sir." She said, dropping into a small curtsey, to which he did not respond, and which she thought was really rather rude.

Malfoy crossed the room, "Then here is your present. Many happy returns." With that, he turned and bowed awkwardly in the direction of her parents, and disappeared into the fireplace. The moment he was gone, Draco's eyes began to swim with tears. Maia hugged him instantly, not quite sure what had happened, but Marius and Caroline shared worried glances.

Marius crossed the room, beaming heartily at both of them, "Never mind, never mind, son. You probably should have listened to your father, but there you go. I'm sure he'll have forgotten all about it by the time you get back and we're always pleased to see you. It's not long now before the others will be here."

And with that, Vincent and Gregory appeared through the fireplace. They were soon followed by Ernie, Daphne, Aunt Cassiopeia and Professor Lupin. The later pair looked at each other furiously, which Maia didn't like. She wanted her two teachers to get along; both of them gave such good lessons. There wasn't much time to dwell on this though, because Marius picked her up and firmly placed her in front of her mound of presents which had only grown in size.

"You may as well get on with it." He said affectionately, rubbing his hand on her hair.

"Don't do that, you'll ruin her hair for the photos!"

Maia opened her presents – there were too many to list them all – while Caroline took photos of just about everyone and everything in the room. A few presents stood out. Professor Lupin had given her his own copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ which she swore to read and treasure forever. He was always reading that book and she couldn't believe he had given it to her. Mum and Dad gave her chocolate and sweets from Honeydukes and a toy wand and a set of gobstones that changed colour when they rolled. Draco got her a broomstick servicing kit and Aunt Cassiopeia also gave her a book (teachers!) on the history of the Black family. Marius seemed particularly thrilled with this gift though Maia just looked at him oddly. It was awfully big and heavy and didn't have a single picture, which was a going a bit far even by her standards. She was only seven after all.

The party went well from there. There was an awkward moment when Caroline announced they were going to play a game, but none of the children, apart from Maia, had ever heard of musical chairs or pass the parcel. Caroline looked crestfallen until Draco jumped in and announced that he would love to learn. Cassiopeia sniffed – she had yet to open her mouth to anyone but the children – but remained seated. She had decided that Maia had potential and she was going to make sure that she was raised in the proper way. If this was what she had to do to ensure the continued success of the Black family – Maia was the last to bear the name – then this was what she had to do.

Suddenly, Maia screamed. "Get out of the way! Get out of the way!" Her parents and everyone else turned to her in horror but she started pushing them all as hard as she could. She was so loud that they were forced to obey, just to make her be quiet. She continued to scream in panic, tears streamed down her face.

Marius opened his mouth to scold her when, suddenly, the chandelier fell from the ceiling and plummeted towards the floor. If they hadn't moved, it would have been falling towards them. Remus reacted the fastest, drawing his wand and pointing at the chandelier, stopping it in its tracks and sending it back up to the ceiling. "It's ok." He said, "I fixed it there with magic. It won't be falling down anytime soon."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, then turned to Maia. "How did you know?" asked Marius. "Did you see it come loose?"

Maia started to dry her eyes. "I don't know. I didn't even know it was going to fall, I wasn't looking. I just knew that we really, really had to move."

Marius frowned, clapped his hands, and turned to Cassiopeia. " Well, it was a jolly good spot of luck! Maybe some of the old Black Seer blood is reappearing?"

Maia looked at the ground when she realised that all the other children were staring at her in awe.

Cassiopeia looked at him disdainfully, though her mind was working in overdrive. "There isn't any, not that you would know." Everyone else in the room cringed at the coldness of her tone. Sometimes, Draco thought, she was as mean as his father.

Cassiopeia turned to Maia, "You must have had a shock. I'll brew you a calming potion. Come with me."

Remus turned to Cassiopeaia quickly, looking almost angry. "I'll do it. I know where everything is."

Maia glanced between the two of them, trying to work out what was going on, but, to be honest, she was still unnerved by the business of the plummeting chandelier and just wanted everything to go back to normal.

"I'm sure Maia can show me."

And with that, she walked commandingly out of the room. Maia had no choice but to follow obediently, still sniffing a little. As she showed her aunt the way to the school room, Remus was left pacing the floor. He didn't care either way if Maia was a Seer or not, but he knew that hag Cassiopeia would. Anything to enrich the name of Black, just as it looked like it might finally die out. The vile, vile woman! But then, the Blacks were all the same. Even Marius, even though he was a Squib, still wanted to be part of it. He might not be evil, not like Sirius or Cassiopeia, but he wanted to name, he wanted to bask in the glory. That was the only reason he was willing to let Caroline win on the 'interaction' front. He just wanted to be in good graces with his sister. Remus wouldn't have cared if it wasn't at Maia's expense!

He started to pace the room, ignoring the party that Caroline had re-started at a significant distance from certain crystal objects. Marius was trying his best to carry on as before, but he was clearly strained. At last, Remus couldn't hold himself back. He turned on his heel and walked sharply towards the school room. He wouldn't leave Maia alone with that woman one second longer than he had to...

...

Cassiopeia's head whirled as she ticked of wizarding families the Blacks had married into, or had married into the Blacks, listing Maia's family history, trying to work out where the Seer blood could have come from. It was obvious she had some sort of Seer blood in her which would have to be nurtured. But try as she might, she couldn't think back to a reasonable relative. Not within the last eight generations, at least.

When they got to the school room, she set the potion to brewing itself with a flick of her wand. Then she turned to Maia. "Are you feeling well?"

"Yes, Aunt Cassiopeia. It was all just a bit frightening."

"I know. Now, close your eyes for a second, I want to do a spell." Her mind continued to list through all known families with Seer blood. She wondered what on earth Marius had done. It was awfully odd for a Squib to continue a magical line, but then it wasn't impossible... This was fast seeming impossible though. The Blacks were metamorphmagi if they were anything, or perhaps a Parselmouth. They were never Seers.

"What for?"

"It's just a calming spell. The potion might take a while and I don't want you sad on your birthday." Maia smiled and closed her eyes, Aunt Cassiopeia was a little scary sometimes, and very strict, but she was a good teacher and really quite nice and kind on the inside. When she wasn't threatening to feed them to goblins or lock them in the cupboard with the boggart. Cassiopeia knelt before Maia and placed her hands on either side of her face.

"Now breathe deeply Maia, do you feel calmer?"

"Yes."

"Just breathe slowly and relax."

It was surprisingly easy to penetrate Maia's mind, but then she was young, relaxed and had just had her mind opened by Foresight. Flashes of a very different life appeared, hazy, but the meaning was clear. There was a chestnut haired woman, and a dark haired man looking down at her, beaming. Her stomach was tickled and she felt happy and safe and warm. Cassiopeia knew the man, and she knew the woman. She was looking out of her crib as the dark haired man wept. Then she was in Dumbledore's office – Cassiopeia knew it well from her days as Head Girl – while none other than Remus Lupin raged and roared. The images kept coming but she'd seen enough to know.

Cassiopeia pulled away, as Maia stared back at her wide-eyed and tear stained. What were those memories? Who were those people?

"Aunt Cassiopeia...?"

She didn't finish her sentence. Cassiopeia pointed her wand directly at Maia and said, "Obliviate", just as Remus Lupin pushed the door open.

"What in the name of Merlin..."

...

**Sorry in advance because I don't usually like long author's notes explaining a story, but I wanted to say something before people got cross with me!**

**Although Maia's Seer abilities may affect some aspects of the plot slightly, she is not going to somehow gain knowledge of the next seven books and go on a mission to bring down Tom Riddle herself, or 'See' everything before it happens and so save the day when it comes to Trolls/Quirrell/The Chamber of Secrets/everything else that happens in the Harry Potter series... Rather, I imagine her as the opposite of Trelawney, as competent in actually carrying out readings and as having premonitions of the immediate future. : ) **


	15. The Throwing Down Of The Gauntlet

**Hello to everyone who's still reading – I hope you're having fun! **

**Also, I still don't own Harry Potter and don't make any money from this etc. etc. If you have time, please review, as it's the only way I know which things are right/wrong. **

Chapter Fifteen

"Maia, sweetheart, could you wait outside for a moment please?" Remus' voice sounded strained and she could see that he and Aunt Cassiopeia were about to argue. Everything had suddenly become rather odd.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing's wrong, I just want to talk to your Aunt Cassiopeia."

"Why though?"

"Why don't you go back to the party and we'll bring you the potion." He reached out and placed a hand over her forehead, "Are you feeling ok?"

"Yes, I feel much better now."

"Ok, then go back to the party and I'll help Aunt Cassiopeia with the potion."

She looked up at Aunt Cassiopeia who nodded to her primly. Maia turned and began to walk back to the party, wondering what on earth was going on. But they told her what to do and she had to obey. She was almost a grown-up now, she would be going to Hogwarts soon, after all, so she had to behave properly, dutifully and respectfully, when she remembered, at least. Yet something was wrong here, she didn't know what, but she knew it was something. She was starting to think it had something to do with her.

They never did bring her the potion either. By the time they both came back, they seemed to have forgotten about it. Neither of them looked particularly happy, and if she were honest, they cast quite a gloomy shadow over the rest of the party. She was sad when it ended; she didn't want anyone to come home. She tried to persuade her mum to let Draco stay, at least, for a sleep over, but Mr. Malfoy had already come to pick Draco up. He was still a horrid man to be around, though she'd never say that to Draco.

...

It was late at night as Remus Lupin looked out of his window from his now tidy apartment. He'd cleaned up his act over the last few years. Life somehow had a meaning again, in spite of the grief and the rage and the anger and the hate. The half-moon glimmered in the night sky.

He gut twisted when he thought of what had happened: Cassiopeia knew.

And she told him what she knew. She knew Maia was a pureblood, more than that, that she was the daughter of a great wizard. Yes, that was what she said, a great wizard. She had his skill, and she had the Seer blood of McKinnon fame. And she knew who he, Remus Lupin, was. She knew he was the betrayed best friend. She knew he was the godfather. She only had to guess and then his face confirmed it. She knew that he knew before he became Maia's tutor. She knew that Marius and Caroline didn't know he knew. She knew that Marius and Caroline didn't know how he was really linked to Maia. And she knew he was a werewolf, and that Marius and Caroline didn't. She knew he probably had plans. Even if he didn't, one word from her and they would all think he did. And who would believe him, a werewolf up to his eyes if lies? Oh yes, by Salazar, she knew.

She knew _everything_.

And she was going to take Maia away from him. She was going to _nurture_ her, and _prepare_ her, and _teach_ her.

And if he said anything, then she would make sure Maia left his life for good.

Because Marius and Caroline would not want a dangerous, half-breed werewolf _near_ their daughter.

Because Marius and Caroline would not let her godfather tutor her, not after he had lied, not when he might have the right to take her away.

Because Maia was their daughter now. Because Maia was her niece now. Because he was nothing to Maia, nothing at all, just a tutor of whom she was fairly fond. Tutors and teachers are easily forgotten, easily replaced. Tutors are not _family_.

And one whisper from her, one whisper from Cassiopeia, and he would never see _his_ Maia, his _sweetheart_ again.

She had spat his own words back at him like poison.

He reached for the firewhiskey and poured it down his throat, straight from the bottle.

...

Cassiopeia Black wandered the library of her mansion, looking for books on how best to nurture Maia's gift. She was having premonitions at the moment, and didn't see far into the future, but that could change and even if it didn't, any foresight was worth having.

She fought back the urge to smile; Maia was a pureblood. She should have realised all along. She was so gifted and talented, so beautiful, so like the rest of the family. Apart from the Seer blood – which was the only thing from _that_ bloodline worth having – she had nothing of the blood-treacherous McKinnons. She did look so like dear Bellatrix, though Sirius was there as well. She shuddered to think of them both in Azkaban. Her poor relatives, to be so great and yet treated so wrongly.

Of course, she herself was not a Death Eater. She found _that_ business to be quite coarse and vulgar. It was not something someone of her standing should get involved with. The _Blacks_ should never have gotten involved at all. Of course, the Dark Lord had had the right idea, in principle, but that level of derangement and bloodlust was really not the _done thing_. Not that she felt sympathy for the filthy muggles and Mudbloods, of course. To be honest, she considered her views fairly simple. Every society needed a hierarchy, needed order. There would be no point if everyone else were as good as the Blacks, or the other old families. Mudbloods had their place, at the bottom, doing the jobs that needed doing. Things would stay as they were and would keep ticking over the same as they had always done. If some were particularly useful, they might rise a little higher than the rest, but as long as the right people stayed on top, as long as everyone knew their place, then she saw no reason to take things further. But then the young, Bellatrix, Sirius, Rabastan, Rudolphus and all the others probably felt the injustice of having to mix with the lower orders more keenly, having to spend more time with them, be _educated alongside them_. That was probably the one thing she _would_ change.

She tutted to herself, turning her thoughts back to the matter in hand. She had it all planned out already. She would teach Maia, and raise her to be the future Head of the House of Black. It was unusual, of course, for a woman to bear the mantle, but then this was the 20th century, things were moving on. She herself had had quite a radical moment in her late teens. She had even worn trousers, _four times_. As if she was a wizard, rather than a witch. She blushed at the memory. There was the problem that everyone would think Maia was a half-blood, at least for now, but the truth could come out in the future and even if it didn't, she, Cassiopeia would know the truth and that would be some comfort. As long as Maia married a pureblood, their bloodline would be secure, even in secret.

She wondered what her next move should be. She would not confront Marius and Caroline with her information, not at the moment. Marius was still edgy and Caroline was very protective, annoying muggle that she was. But Marius was desperate for Maia to receive all the benefits of being a Black in the wizarding world. She would play on that and ingratiate herself.

She had to do something about that disgusting half-breed though, and right away. He would lead Maia astray. He would teach her to hate her family, hate her history, hate everything that the House of Black stood for, and in teaching her to do so, he would make her hate herself and would consider it a job well done. She should have _spat _at him before for his impudence.

And how could he be trusted? What if he hurt Maia? What if he bit her? Fear ran down her spine...

He would have to be removed. She just had to make sure she did it carefully. He was so disgustingly popular, so despicably competent and Maia was so inexplicably fond of him.

Filthy half-breed, and probably a mudblood to boot.

...


	16. Malfoy Manor

**Hello, I still don't own Harry Potter. **

**Happy reading!**

Chapter Sixteen

"I say, Draco, you're being awfully quiet today." Said Ernie, in a somewhat pompous manner.

Maia and Daphne shared a look. They'd both thought it but neither of them were going to bring up Draco's miserable mood; they'd been paying attention during their etiquette lessons which they were supposed to be practising during their lunch hour, not flagrantly ignoring. It was the first time they had all seen each other since Maia's party, and while they had all got over the dramatics of the chandelier, Draco had, towards the end, become increasingly concerned about his father's imminent arrival. Mr. Malfoy had retrieved him in the end, carting him off with stern words about his behaviour. He had turned up today in a foul mood, refusing to mention it.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm perfectly fine." He didn't look it.

Vincent and Gregory were by the buffet, helping themselves to more food as they did every other day. "Look, all the others have gone outside." Said Vincent.

"So?" said Draco.

"I dunno, I was just saying." Shrugged Vincent.

"Is Diggory with them?" asked Maia.

"Yes."

Maia's eyes gleamed for a moment and Draco sat up a little straighter. "What are you thinking, cousin?"

"I was just hoping I could get my own back for his dad and the whole I'm-going-to-arrest-you-and-throw-you-in-Azkaban-for-a-crime-you-didn't-commit-without-even-bothering-to-check-that-you're-really-guilty-first thing."

"That sounds brilliant. I still can't believe he tried to do that. If my father had known, I'm sure he would have got him sacked." Said Draco. Daphne nodded in agreement. "The Malfoys have always had far more influence than the Diggorys. They're very _nouveau riche_, as my mother would say."

"My father _did_ try."

"Yes, well..."

"Well, what, Draco?"

"Your father is a Squib, the Ministry wouldn't listen to him as much because he doesn't work with them like my father does."

Maia flushed and moved to stand up. Daphne shifted uncomfortably in her seat; Draco clearly needed to pay more attention in etiquette class. Maia sat back down and glared at him. "What are you trying to say, _Draco_?"

Ernie looked between them awkwardly, "Now, steady on chums. We don't-"

"I don't mean to offend you, but it is _true_."

"My father is wonderful."

"Well put Maia." Said Ernie, grasping at straws, while Daphne stared pointedly out of the window and Vincent and Gregory turned back the buffet with so much enthusiasm it had to be forced, even by their standards.

"Yes, but he's not important like my father, or Daphne's father, or even Ernie's father."

"My father is only head of the Control of Magical Creatures Department." Interjected Ernie, not quite sure how this would help. "He spends most of his time with house elves and pixies."

"Yes, but Maia's father doesn't do anything."

"Neither does yours." She spat.

"Yes, but he's still important in the wizarding world."

"My dad's important in the muggle world!"

"My point exactly!" Really, why was she being so ridiculous? Surely it was obvious to her that she should be pleased she had other relatives to help her out and look after her. He liked Mr. Black, he was a very nice, friendly, wealthy man, but he was different to them. He was different to his father.

Maia chewed her bottom lip. "Professor Lupin told me about the Wizarding War. He said that there were people who thought they were more important than muggles because they were magic, and more important that other magic people because they had more magical families. He didn't tell me what they did exactly, but he said they did very bad things. I'd be awfully sad if I thought you looked at me like that."

It was Draco's turn to flush.

"Of course we don't Maia!" cried Ernie "How could you ever even say that! Good grief, I couldn't care less if you were half-giant or half-house elf, yet alone half-muggle! You'll always be my friend. Don't you say, Draco, Daphne?" He looked around them and Daphne was already nodding furiously (and elegantly at the same time, of course).

Draco had gone rather quiet, "I hadn't meant it like that. I didn't think about it that way. I wasn't thinking about you at all. I was just thinking about my dad and the Ministry. They always do what he says, he told me."

Ernie sighed, "Good. Can we all go back to being friends again now?"

Maia nodded, she knew exactly what would cheer them all up. "Who wants to prank darling Diggory?"

...

Of course, all of them later swore that they had no idea how Cedric came to be spello-taped to the ceiling. Absolutely no idea at all. It had to be the older children; they'd hardly every spoken to Cedric, had they? Why would they ever think to do such a thing to the older children, who had _wands_? They'd have to be crazy to prank people who had wands when they didn't.

And in that respect, the day went rather well. But Maia was left with an awful sinking feeling. Was there something really different about her parents?

...

The next few days went well for Maia, after she returned home from Aunt Cassiopeia's lessons she practised on her broom. It was her goal to be a Chaser on her House team by the time she was in third year. That weekend, Narcissa Malfoy took her and Draco to Diagon Alley for ice cream. She also bought Draco his own owl so he would stop nagging to use the family one and let them fill a bag a bag of Zonko's tricks between them. He called the owl Nero. Maia decided that Mrs. Malfoy was lovely. Narcissa asked all about her Uncle Marius and couldn't believe he'd been living in the muggle world all this time.

"Oh, that poor man. If only I'd known." She'd gasped.

Maia frowned, "Father said that a lot of his family didn't like him because he was a Squib."

Nacissa blushed, "Yes, that is true. His lack of magic is... unfortunate. Very sad. His parents wouldn't have been happy about it. They probably thought that sending him to the muggle world was a kindness. But so much has happened since then, it's sad, so very sad to have so few family members left."

Narcissa looked at Maia and Draco opposite her, half hidden behind the mound of ice cream in front of each of them. "It is so good to have some family back, at least. And I am so very pleased that you and Draco are getting along so well. And Maia, you really do look like so many of your Black cousins..." Narcissa's voice trailed away.

Maia looked so very much like both of the sisters she had lost. Narcissa Malfoy was a cold woman, who had most of the few things she had ever wanted in life; money, beauty, a powerful husband and a handsome son. But she could not deny that she felt an outsider in the world, reliant on her husband's name, now that her own family had simply vanished from the wizarding world, never to rise again.

Until now.

Draco looked over at Maia and smiled. He had been especially nice to her after their argument. Part of the reason they were having this trip was because his mother said he had to make up for being so ill-mannered. He found this rather odd, as his mother was usually as scornful of his father about non-purebloods, let alone Squibs, but then she was the one who had told him to be tactful from the outset. He supposed Maia was the exception to the rule, probably because she was the last of the Blacks.

"Mum, can Maia come back to ours to play?" asked Draco, "Could she stay for dinner, please?"

"Of course." Draco beamed, his mother hardly ever said no to anything. "Would you like to stay Maia?"

"Oh yes please, but I'd have to ask my father first."

Narcissa smiled, "I'm sure he won't have a problem. I'll send him a message." She pulled out her wand and a silver light floated from the end, gradually forming into a dove. She lent forwards and whispered to it, waved her wand and it faded away as silently as it had arrived. "Well, that's settled. Do you want to floo home or apparate?"

Draco and Maia looked at each other, and answered without hesitation, "Floo. We never want to apparate again!"

They journey to Diagon Alley had been... unpleasant.

...

Maia had never been to Malfoy Manor before; Draco had always come to visit her. She looked around and the big, dark rooms and high ceilings and oil portraits that moved. It wasn't that different in size to her own home, so she was hardly intimidated, but it was different from her home, and even from Aunt Cassiopeia's. She walked over to the window.

"You have peacocks?"

"My father thinks they're good."

Narcissa rolled her eyes, "The Malfoy crest includes a peacock. Not that _I_ think that's a good enough reason, but still..." Narcissa looked sternly at Draco, "You may show Maia around, but don't go wandering into any of the rooms you aren't allowed to. I don't want to have to find you if you go exploring."

"Yes, mother." Said Draco solemnly.

Maia turned to him as soon as they were out of the door, "Draco, I don't understand. Your parents spoil you and let you have anything you want, more than my mum and dad and that's saying something, but they're so much stricter than mine. Why are there rooms you can't go in?"

Draco smiled smugly, "It's only because this is a wizarding house. It's the same and Aunt Cassiopeia's but there's never a chance to explore because all the magical rooms are upstairs. My mum and dad have rooms and libraries just for magic and spells, but some of them are dangerous for children. All wizarding families have them, at least the important ones."

"You are so stuck up about being a pureblood, Draco."

"So?" he said with a shrug, "I should be. Mother and father both think it's important as well." He puffed himself up, "One has to be proud of one's heritage and show it, otherwise the riffraff, like the Weasleys, will get ideas."

Maia laughed, "You look like Fudge when you do that!"

Both of them dissolved with laughter at the Minister of Magic who'd just been elected. Cassiopeia had spent six hours listing his many, many faults to them. Aunt Irma had been so distraught that her country had gone to the dogs that she had spent three days straight in bed and refused to teach her classes, declaring that there was no hope left for them and it would be kinder to leave the children ignorant, so they would not know what they had lost.

"What's wrong with the Weasleys anyway?"

"They're a bunch of stupid blood traitors, that's what my father says. Arthur Weasley works at the Ministry and father says he's absolutely incompetent. It wouldn't matter so much, if he and his _comrades_ weren't trying to force half the senior ministers out of their posts. Of course we should accept muggleborns and half-bloods, I'm not saying we shouldn't. I would be furious if someone said something mean or stopped you doing something just because Uncle Marius was a Squib and Aunt Caroline was a muggle. But what the Weasleys and those like them want is to take away from all the important jobs from purebloods who already have them. They say it's not fair that they have so many important roles, but it's not a pureblood's fault that they're pureblood, or even that they're rich. The muggle world works the same way, just look at your mother. Maybe it is a little unfair, but that's how it is, and the Weasleys want to take everything, everything, away from them and that's even more unfair." Answered Draco. He was careful not to upset Maia, but it was true. Besides, she still belonged to the House of Black so the Weasleys probably wouldn't like her for that anyway, even if she was a half-blood. And even though she was a half-blood, she was practically on the same level as him anyway because she was a Black. Aunt Cassiopeia had openly acknowledged Maia as her niece on many occasions.

"That is wrong, if they're good at their job, they surely can't want to take it away from them just because of their blood status?"

"Arthur Weasley would, if he had his way." Draco shrugged, "Come on, let me show you the house. We shouldn't waste our breath on those sorts of people."

They walked around and Draco gave her a tour of the many rooms, but most of them were rather boring, to be honest. They got told off for slouching and talking too loudly by a portrait of an old wizard in medieval robes, who they stuck their tongues at and ran away from. In another room, they came across the family house elf, who looked rather dirty, and who Draco shouted at to go away. Maia told him off, but Draco said that was how they had to deal with Dobby, who was, apparently, an awful house elf. Maia decided not to push the matter after that. She didn't know the house elf after all, and so maybe Draco was telling the truth. They couldn't all be as lucky as her and have wonderful house elves like Trixie.

When they got bored with the house, they decided to practice duelling. Draco had a number of toy wands, so they had their pick. They started off politely enough, bowing and walking ten paces apart. Soon after that though, they were recreating the epic battle between Merlin and Morganna. They charged through the corridors of the house, bemoaning the insults made to them, the injustices Uther and Arthur had inflicted upon them, and yelling made-up curses at the top of their lungs. They burst into the drawing room, both swearing to fight to the death and eternal hatred thereafter, without realising that Narcissa Malfoy was sat on one of the sofas, and had, until then, been peacefully enjoying herself with a novel. Maia let out a bloodcurdling cry as she fell to the ground, Draco triumphant, whilst Narcissa gasped and clutched her chest.

"Oh Salazar! You two gave me the fright of my life!"

They hung their heads, "Sorry, didn't you hear us coming?"

Narcissa rolled her eyes, "I could hear you both on the other side of the Manor. I cast a silencing charm on the door."

They looked at each other sheepishly. "Sorry."

"That's quite alright, I'm glad you're having fun. I just hope you never have a real duel like that!" She paused, "Say, it's not fair that Aunt Cassiopeia will teach you all your early magic." She looked at Maia closely. She had been doing it all day and Maia found it rather unnerving. If she looked at her for too long, Mrs Malfoy looked terribly sad. Narcissa Malfoy shook herself and continued, "And perhaps it would be good for you to calm down before Lucius gets home. I shall teach you some spells. She looked them both up and down. Draco, you can borrow my wand. Maia, I shall fetch a spare one for you. Both of you wait here and if you misbehave, there will be no magic."

She turned and left the room, as Maia and Draco looked at each other, glee etched over both of their faces. They walked over to the coffee table and sat on the sofas. They had angelic faces by the time Narcissa returned. She smiled smugly, this bribe would not be so effective once they had their own wands, but still, she had other reasons for this.

"We'll start with lumos, as you've both done that before, at least, Draco has. Maia?"

Maia nodded.

"Good." She handed her wand over to Draco and pulled another wand out of an elegant case. Maia looked it over, thinking about the Wandlore Aunt Cassiopeia had started teaching them. It was about 12-13 inches, walnut by the look of it. It had a bend, which was unusual and etchings, which weren't.

"Now Maia, don't be upset if this wand doesn't work. It belonged to my sister, and, if it's anything like her, will be stubborn about loyalty. If it doesn't work I'll just find another. There are a few more upstairs." Narcissa almost felt guilty, handing it over. If the girl's father was a Squib, she might be more sensitive if it failed than Draco would have been. But her sister had been exactly Maia's age when she had first held that wand and the pathetic little girl in her who wanted her big sister back just couldn't resist punishing herself in a futile attempt to relive the past.

Maia reached out and took the wand. She instantly felt something spread up her arm, a sort of warm and fuzzy feeling, as a shower of golden and silver sparks emitted from the end.

Narcissa clapped her hand over her mouth as Maia looked up at her beaming, "I think it likes me, my tutor's wand never does that! Who does it belong to?"

"My sister, Bellatrix." She said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Maia, still smiling, said "lumos" and, for the first time in almost seven years, the tip of the wand glowed.

...

On Monday morning Professor Lupin arrived looking rather red-eyed and dishevelled. He smelt funny too. "Good morning, Maia." He said. His voice seemed a little weak.

"Good morning Professor Lupin."

They started talking about the stars and planets, which was fun, because he quizzed her on her family history at the same time, which meant she could use it as an excuse to do more potions or herbology later. He didn't seem half as enthusiastic as normal though. Suddenly, he stopped the lesson and came and sat in front of her.

"How are you feeling, Maia?" It had been two weeks since the party. Two weeks where he had lived shadowed by constant fear that he would lose her.

"Perfectly well."

"Have you had any visions since the party?"

"Not really, I've been having extra lessons on Thursday with Aunt Cassiopeia and she gets me to stare into the ball and try and predict things like tomorrow's weather, or who will arrive first tomorrow. I've been right each time so far, so it's fun. She says to practice little things and get used to my Inner Eye."

Remus nodded. "What else do you do? What else do you talk about?"

Maia shrugged, "She tests me a lot, about family history. And then in the other classes we do the same as ever, Latin and French... She's starting to talk about Wandlore and Magical Theory as well."

"And about family history, does she say anything particular about that?"

Maia frowned, "She likes teaching it more than you do. She keeps saying how I have to have pride in the House of Black, but so does father, so it's nothing different really."

"So, she doesn't say anything that makes you confused, or uncomfortable?"

Maia's frown deepened, "No, why would she?"

"I just want to check. If her lessons do ever confuse you or worry you, you know you can talk to me, right?"

"Yes, but if I find her lessons confusing, surely she could explain?"

"Of course, but I'm here as well." He scratched his head and it wasn't until then that Maia noticed his hair looked very knotted, like he hadn't brushed it in days.

"Are you quite alright, Professor?"

He nodded, distracted, and started the lesson again as if nothing had happened. It seemed as though he was trying to say Aunt Cassiopeia was trying to do something bad, but she was her aunt, how could she want to do anything bad? Maia looked down at her work sadly. She had been so looking forward to telling Professor Lupin about the wand, it had been the most wonderful feeling in the world, but he clearly wasn't interested in anything like that. He was in a foul, foul mood.

...

The sun was just starting to go down as Marius and Caroline walked around the grounds of their home. The grass was thick and lush and the clouds had a pinkish tinge to them where the reddening sun descended behind them.

"We should make our way in, Trixie will want to serve dinner soon."

Marius nodded. "Are you sure we're doing the right thing?" he said suddenly.

"What do you mean?" asked Caroline.

"Letting her study with my family. Letting her have the 'extra' lessons with Cassiopeia. She used my cousin Bellatrix's wand and was thrilled. She doesn't know, but the woman was a Death Eater, one of the people who worked for You-Know-Who, if you remember. She was a Death Eater of the worst kind."

Caroline frowned, Marius had, for weeks now, been overjoyed at getting back together with his family. He had always had a lot of pride in them as a family, the Blacks, and to be truthful she had not found this odd. That was the sort of family she grew up in. It even made more sense to her, given her assumption that the rest of his family were dead. But now they were back. Marius had warned her and worried at first that they had a tendency towards Dark Magic and she had worried as well. Then, however, he had gradually become more and more pleased as the links between the families grew. Maia was making friends and Caroline hadn't questioned that. She never really questioned anything, ever. It was her job to make sure everyone was happy. And they had been. Until the worries had now suddenly come back. "But why, my love?"

"Because I do not want her to be her father."

"She won't be. She'll be Maia, our Maia, now and forever. A wand is just a wand, isn't it? Maia will cast the spells. She'll have her own wand one day. Don't ruin her happiness by telling her about the worst of her relatives. She knows enough about the war as it is. You and Professor Lupin can tell her more when she's old enough."

Marius stopped on the grass, still holding her hand, and kissed her forehead. "You do have a wonderful way with making the world seem right." He said, as they walked back to this house smiling.

...

That dinner, Marius smiled at his daughter. "How were your lessons today?"

Maia smiled and thought about Professor Lupin. He had acted odd, but then, perhaps it wasn't about Cassiopeia at all. Perhaps he was just worried about his grandmother. He had had to go and see her again last week. He had seemed very tired as well, he had yawned constantly, "My lessons were good. I learnt about the Sixteenth Goblin War and the founding of Hogwarts."

Caroline smiled, "And how was Professor Lupin today?"

Maia frowned, perhaps she should say about his grandmother. Her parents might be able to help. "I think he might be upset about his grandmother."

Marius nodded, "Well, that's very understandable."

"You must be sure be very nice to him, you wouldn't like it if Aunt Cassiopeia or Aunt Irma were taken ill." Added Caroline.

"I shall speak to him tomorrow and see if there's any way we can help." Marius was pleased, clearly Maia had her heart in the right place. She was very understanding, for someone so young.

...

Later that same evening evening, Irma and Cassiopeia Black took tea in one of the upstairs sitting rooms, which overlooked the street below. They could see the muggles hurrying (gormlessly, of course) about their daily business. It seemed as though some of their offspring were playing some crude game, kicking what looked like a Quaffle between them. Thankfully, their home was enchanted so that they couldn't hear external noise and didn't have to listen to whatever the ghastly children were saying.

As she glanced out of the window, Irma sniffed, "We should move, sister."

Cassiopeia wrinkled her nose, "I would agree, but we are settled here, the library is in order and, thank Salazar, we don't have to interact with them."

"But to live so close to the... riff raff. Grimmauld Place has been empty since Orion and Walburga succumbed to dragon pox, we could go there quite easily."

Even Cassiopeia was slightly surprised with the ease that Irma referred to the demise of her own daughter. Both Orion and Walburga had been very young to be struck down with the illness, the year after their last son had been send to Azkaban. It was all the more sad as they had still had (albeit a small one) the possibility of producing another heir. Yet Orion had been the Head of the House for barely a year, barely enough time to finalise the paperwork, before he and his wife had died. It would have been, in the eyes of most families, tragic. For Irma, and when she had thought about it, Cassiopeia, the only real tragedy was that the Black line had ended, until they had found Maia, of course. "That's still in central London, we would be surrounded by more of them than we are now."

"Very well, Black Manor has been vacant since Arcturus died and Melania went back to the McMillans, as Orion and Walburga never had the chance to move in. You are, now, the Head of the House of Black, Cassiopeia, sister. We could go there, the library is even more impressive. You know as well as I do that we only hold a portion here."

"This is the home where I grew up, where you raised your children, and where we teach the next generation. I can see no real reason to move, unless there are painful memories?"

Irma looked affronted, "Most certainly not. I merely desire to escape the unwashed masses."

"Good, because I have something of genuine importance to discuss with you."

Irma sipped her tea and glanced back towards the window, as if nothing could be more important than distancing themselves from the muggles, "Oh? Pray tell, sister."

"My brother Marius has hired a werewolf to tutor little Maia Violetta."

Not even Irma Black, in all her grand stateliness, could refrain from dropping the delicate fairy cake in her hand. A house elf appeared to remove all trace of the incident immediately. Yet, Irma Black, for all her talk of blood ties and families, could not really bring herself to care beyond the revelation that a beast had got hold of a wand. To her, it was neither here nor there what became of the Squib's spawn. "Oh? And are you expecting me to get involved in some ridiculous, Gryffindor-esque quest to rescue her from his clutches?"

Cassiopeia smirked, "Not a Gryffindor style quest, no."

Irma Black sniffed once more, "I will take a great deal of convincing either way, sister."

...

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed or added this to favourites/alerts! Especially to those who have reviewed nearly all the chapters so far - you know who you are! – it makes me really happy to see the messages pop up in my inbox. Please do review if you have the time, constructive criticism is always welcome as that's the only way I know what you like/dislike. The last chapter had 106 hits, but only 2 reviews. **

**Either way, I'm glad people are pleased with the way that the characters are shaping up. I'm sorry if people still don't like Cassiopeia, and so you might dislike me for the next few chapters, but it is all important for 'The Plot'! **


	17. The Family Closes Ranks

**I still don't own Harry Potter, everything you recognise belongs to J K Rowling.**

Chapter Seventeen

Two weeks had passed since Cassiopeia and Irma had taken tea, but for someone like Cassiopeia, biding one's time for merely two weeks was a simple thing to do.

Maia closed her eyes, her hands resting over the faintly glowing crystal ball. "It will rain on Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, be grey and cloudy on Tuesday and the rain every day for the rest of the week from there." She announced.

Cassiopeia looked down at her neice, "Well, we'll have to start moving on to more challenging things soon. And anyway, the weather here is so awful that I have no way of knowing that you're just making lucky guesses." She smiled indulgently at her niece, the heir, the Seer, the true, pureblood Black. Darling Narcissa had written to her about her using dear Bellatrix's wand. That the wand had recognised such a young and untried witch only hinted at great future potential.

Maia smiled back at her. "That's not my fault." Aunt Cassiopeia was rather intimidating at first, with her Edwardian dress sense and Victorian emphasis on propriety, but after a while she was quite easy to be around, once her quirks and her rages were something one became used to. Aunt Irma was, on the other hand, another kettle of fish entirely. She curled her nose whenever Maia walked past and Maia dreaded progressing to her class. Maybe Irma would decide to teach the younger ones, rather than teach her? She certainly hoped so. Maia wasn't quite sure what she had done to offend the old woman so, but Irma Black had a clear dislike for her.

"So, Maia, how are your other lessons progressing?"

"Well, I hope, Aunt Cassiopeia. I'm working hard in my classes and although I haven't done any wand magic since I visited Malfoy Manor last month, I've brewed more potions with Professor Lupin."

"Very good, your magic may not be stable enough yet to do a real amount of wand magic. You won't start that with me until you're nine, at least."

"Father has always said I won't have a wand until I'm ten."

"Your father will listen to me, Maia."

Maia grinned. A wand a year sooner that she had expected was better than any other present in the world.

"How is Professor Lupin as a teacher?" Asked Cassiopeia, rising from her chair, walked towards the large window and stared out over the streets below. She turned back slightly to gauge Maia's reaction, hoping that today would finally be the day she could collect her ammunition against the filthy half-breed.

Maia's smile faded a little, "He's a wonderful teacher and so much fun, but he's been so sad lately. His grandmother is ill, and so he has to care for her. It was never a problem before, but he seems to get sadder as each day passes. Father has offered to help him, of course, if he can, but Professor Lupin won't discuss the issue with him."

Cassiopeia Black was not a woman of low intelligence and pounced on this little nugget of information. "The poor man, how often does he have to go and care for her?"

Maia paused, "About once a month, he shares looking after her with the rest of his family."

"Well that is a very kind thing for him to do. You must be sure to be very polite to him about it."

"I always am, I couldn't bear it if you, or mum or dad were ill."

Cassiopeia nodded, "You expressed yourself very well Maia, but I have to warn you that it is a sign of poor breeding to refer to your parents as anything other than 'mother' or 'father' outside of the family home."

"Yes, Aunt Cassiopeia." Said Maia with a blush.

"Don't worry, you're still young. You'll have learnt all of this before you arrive at Hogwarts. I am looking forward to seeing you in your school robes and I am very pleased with your progression here. Your Latin and French are flawless. I may start teaching some of you Gobbledegook a year early."

...

Narcissa Malfoy sat in her private drawing room. On the low table in front of her was a dark wand, etched with Runes. She ran her hand over it gently and lifted it up. She closed her eyes as she stroked it, tracing its curves and the knurls on the wood. Resting it gently back on the table, she picked up a heavy, wooden box that was next to it. Placing her hand over the lock, it sprang open and she lifted up a stack of photographs.

Two pale, dark-haired girls were seated on an ornate garden bench. A bundle of blankets, with a rosy face peering out, looked towards the camera. The elder of the girls looked disdainful, as though she had somewhere better to be. Bella had always been the more... uncompromising of the three Black sisters. The second girl was smiling; she held the baby and stroked its tufts of blonde hair.

The next was of Andromeda in her Hogwarts school robes. She was smiling proudly and the prefect badge glistened in the sunlight.

Bellatrix was the centre of the next one, taken the day she had bought her wand from Ollivander's. He had been wary of the seven year old. Bellatrix, however, met the camera's gaze defiantly, holding her wand in front of her.

The next photo was of their family, taken during the Yule festivities of her first year. Their mother, Druella, sat in the centre on a high-backed chair. Their father, Cygnus, stood behind her, his hand resting powerfully on the back of her chair, as is claiming ownership. Andromeda stood dutifully on his right, her hands clasped behind her back, while Bellatrix stood slightly in front of her. She was knelt as her mother's feet.

Then the three of them were stood together in the Slytherin school robes.

The next photo had only Andromeda and her mudblood, dressed in what she presumed to be muggle wedding attire. They were both beaming at the camera, waving, as the mudblood turned to kiss his new wife's cheek. She turned the photo over and read the back.

_Dearest Cissy, I still love you as well. Please forgive me, in your heart, even if you can't show it. I'll miss you so much, but I had to. I hope you'll fall in love as well. I hope you'll understand. All my love, Andy. _

Tears piercing her eyes, Narcissa tucked the photo away quickly. Nobody knew she had that picture, not even Lucius. Not even Andromeda, who probably assumed that it had been burnt long again. It had been so many years since she had seen her eldest sister, such a long time. Narcissa shook her head and looked at the next picture. It was Bellatrix, holding Draco. She looked down at him with a sense of pride, almost possessiveness. She had called him the 'little dragon' who would 'breathe fire for the Dark Lord'. Narcissa could only remember nodding blindly.

Barely a few weeks later, the Dark Lord had fallen and Bellatrix had tortured the Longbottoms into insanity. Narcissa had never liked the blood-traitor Longbottoms, but she would never have wished that fate on anyone, or their son, who was condemned to always be left with a torturous nugget of hope that his parents would one day remember him. Perhaps it was because she was the weak sister; she had never felt anything very strongly. She could not believe in freedom, like Andromeda, or hate, like Bellatrix. She had always wanted the peace and solitude of her own home and family. Lucius had offered her that, and his foolish service to the Dark Lord had almost taken it from her as well.

She shuddered, remembering the day of Bellatrix's trial. They had had to sell two properties to raise a bribe big enough for Mr. Crouch – senior, of course – to grant them even that, though everyone assumed he did it for love of his son. The son had shivered and pleaded. Bellatrix had spat curses and hate on them, defying them, refusing to show fear, declaring that her master would return for her.

He never had.

She had been gone for six years.

Andromeda had been gone longer.

Her mother had vanished, locking herself away in their Bavarian castle. The gossips whispered of grief and guilt and shame, but Narcissa knew it was none of those things. She had been the last of the Rosiers, and that was the only thing worse than being one of the last. No one wants to watch their star eclipsed. No one wants to know, with their last breath, that the vultures are waiting to pounce on what is left of the family gold. Pride had had her shut herself away.

Her father had long since died. He had turned his wand on himself the day the Dark Lord fell. The day his Mark had faded.

Cassiopeia, of course, had saved the day, or at least their finances. She had taken over the Malfoy estate, settled the debts and the bribes, when Lucius had been sent away while he persuaded them that he really had been under the Imperius curse. She scoffed, knowing full well why they no longer had a Dachau in Russia. Imperius victims were not usually given the Dark Mark. She knew full well that her own father had presented him as a candidate for initiation, as he had done for Bellatrix.

She stroked the photo again, following the curve of her baby's cheek.

The Black family had come so very close to ruin.

She placed the photos back in the box and Banished them back to their hiding place. The wand remained on her desk as she stood, smoothed her robes and her hair, and walked towards her writing table. The pale morning sunlight drifted through the window, bathing her favourite spot in a warm glow. Flattening out the heavy parchment, bearing the Malfoy crest, she inked her quill and began to write.

_Dear Mother,_

_I trust this letter finds you well. Lucius and I send our loyalty and regards. _

_I have resolved to visit Bellatrix. While I have no real desire to enter Azkaban, I feel it is my sisterly duty. I will have Lucius arrange the particulars with the Ministry. Please inform me if you have any message you wish me to pass on. _

_Draco is progressing well alongside his cousins. I will have him write to you soon. _

_Your daughter,_

_Narcissa Malfoy_

...

Marius Black was sat in an armchair in his bedroom whilst Caroline carefully rubbed moisturiser into her skin. He flicked through the next few pages and found that the life of Sir Thomas More had appeared much more interesting whilst in still sat on the bookshelf in Foyles. It had been a long day, spent mainly on the phone to idiotic and incompetent executives. He was sure they weren't doing his blood pressure any good. Naturally, Caroline had made his day seem perfect though, just by smiling at him across the dinner table. She really was gold dust.

His peace was, however, rudely interrupted by a faint pop. He cringed inwardly, remembering the sound well, and looked up to find Aunt Irma and Aunt Cassiopeia standing in the centre of the room. Aunt Cassiopeia was visibly shaking, whilst Irma looked around her in disgust.

"Cassiopeia, I understand you are troubled by the, ah...revelation, but I fail to comprehend why you do. I have objected to this acquaintance from the outset."

Cassiopeia rounded on her sister-in-law, fury burning in her eyes. She had insisted Irma come with her for one reason and one reason alone; she would demand to leave the moment she was expected to consort with a muggle, yet alone a Squib. But that all played nicely into her hands.

"Fine, _dear_ sister. I am so very glad that your loyalty to the Black family - which consented to associate itself with the social climbing, petty-bourgeois, nouveu riche Crabbe's - amounts to so very little in a moment of true crisis. If this is how you truly feel, then leave and let us deal with it!" She spat, even allowing herself to appear to lose her composure.

"Very well." Irma looked to give Caroline a filthy look before vanishing as quickly as she arrived.

Cassiopeia turned to her brother, "Marius Pollux Black, I have one question for you and one question only," she snapped, glaring at him, whilst holding up another hand to silence Caroline, "did Remus Lupin tell you what he was?"

Marius paled. "I beg your pardon?"

"Did the filth whose been endangering Maia tell you what he was?" She was openly shaking and even she had to admit, now that the moment had come (and it could only have come sooner) her horror was not entirely an act. She sincerely believed, and sincerely hoped, that Marius had had no idea _who_ he was hiring.

The fact he had been a werewolf had been terrifying enough.

But then, after she had researched further, the revelation that he had been sired by Fenrir Greyback had been enough for her to send for the smelling salts.

Maia, her Maia, her heir, had been spending years alone, completely defenceless, with an associate of Greyback! There were no words to convey exactly how she felt.

And he was her godfather as well, who no doubt wanted to take her from them.

The whole situation was intolerable. He was a werewolf. He was a sick, dangerous monster. She couldn't bear to think what he had planned, there were so many different forces at work, but none of them could end well for Maia. What if he wanted to avenge the loss of his friends by attacking the daughter their betrayer? What of his loyalty to his sire? Oh Salazar, she had never felt quite to unspeakably frightened in her life...

The room was silent as Marius stared at her, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly. It was as if his world, his comfortable quiet world had been ripped from underneath him and he had come crashing to the floor. Maia was, somehow, in danger. Somehow, he had failed.

Caroline's shaking voice, flooded with fear, whispered, "What do you mean?"

This was the first time she had Cassiopeia had ever spoken a word to each other. Cassiopeia, with real emotion, walked over to Caroline and placed her hand on her shoulder. "I am so very sorry, there was no way you could have known."

"Known what?" Snapped Marius, "Cassiopeia, tell me now, right now, what is wrong with my daughter." He crossed the room to shake his sister, "Now!" He shouted.

Caroline stood up and gently tugged him away as Cassiopeia sunk into the seat before Caroline's dressing table.

"Remus Lupin is a werewolf."

Marius put his head in his hands and slowly walked back to his chair. "Are you sure?" He asked, his voice uneven.

She steeled herself to continue the act she had rehearsed. "Absolutely. I had no idea until today, but then Maia said something, completely innocently, that made me start to worry. I went through the records, I have enough influence to do so on such short notice, thank Merlin, and found it all there, clear as day."

Caroline looked from her husband to her sister-in-law. Cassiopeia normally held them both in disdain, that was true, but she knew well enough from the party that she seemed to care for Maia. And now she was here, in their bedroom, absolutely distraught. "Do you mean that he's a werewolf, that he turns into a bloodthirsty monster once every full moon, like in the horror stories? Surely that can't be true? He's been teaching Maia for years, there must be some mistake. He's seemed such a... such a good sort of person."

Cassiopeia looked at Caroline with a mixture of surprise and sincere pity. "Muggles know about werewolves?"

"Yes, but they aren't _real_, they're monsters, to scare people with. Remus Lupin cannot be a monster."

"Caroline, I assure you, werewolves are very, very real and they are monsters. They're in our horror stories as well."

Caroline turned to Marius, who nodded. "It is true. But I never thought... he has a wand!"

Cassiopeia nodded. "I dread to think how he came by it."

"He said he lost people during the war." Whispered Marius.

"He didn't say from which side though, did he?"

"He said he was against blood purity."

"Were those his exact words, Marius?"

Caroline carefully lowered herself to the bed, clutching at the bed sheets for support.

Marius trembled, "He said he would treat her the same as any other witch..."

Cassiopeia blanched. "By Merlin..." She walked over the Caroline and sat next to her and clasped her hand. "This must all be a shock to you. It was a shock for me, for Marius, but for you..." Of course, the woman was just a stupid muggle, but she still loved Maia like her own daughter, that much was clear. Cassiopeia was inclined to at least treat her... civilly as a result. That, and she needed to be close to them to make sure she could ensure Maia was properly raised.

Caroline nodded, "But, but he seems so... so nice. Surely he can't mean any harm by it? How did you realise, when we never even knew?"

Cassiopeia swallowed. "When I first saw him, I thought he looked shabby, not just his clothes, but he looked worn and tired. That is a sign of a werewolf but I overlooked it. People can be tired as well. It all hit me, all of a sudden, when Maia said that he took time off every month to look after a sick grandmother. Clearly, there is no sick grandmother. I have him as a recorded werewolf. He took the time off to transform."

Suddenly Marius seemed to regain movement, he stood up and roared, "I comforted him, the murdering devil, I comforted him!" He paced the room, "I will end that man, that beast."

"But surely," whispered Caroline, "he might still be good?"

Cassiopeia shook her head. "I'm sorry. The werewolf transformation changes someone... fundamentally. They are no longer human, they're a werewolf. It's not just that they transform, that is not the problem, it's that they lose their... humanity. They lose their sense of fellow feeling. They are beasts, even when walking in human form, they're beasts. They like to hunt. And they have no problem with waiting for, stalking, their prey."

Marius had walked to the window and stared out into the sky. The moon and the stars were all hidden that night by clouds and fog. Rain thundered down heavily against the window.

"It gets worse, brother."

"How? How could it possibly get worse?"

"He was turned by Fenrir Greyback. Even for a werewolf, Greyback is notorious. He has a speciality, children. He believes that turning them when they're young will mean they're even more vicious. They have no problem with waiting to sire young werewolves. Think about it, he came here, told you everything you wanted to hear and has been on his best behaviour since. If he had waited a month or two, you would have been suspicious perhaps, if he made up an excuse to take Maia, say, stargazing to further her Astronomy. Even perhaps after six months. Now, after you have known him for two years, invited him to eat at your table, would you have questioned him? These monsters plan these things. And what better revenge on the wizarding world who triumphed over them, who triumphed over the Dark Lord, to slowly take away their children? To turn their children against them? By the time you realised what was happening, it would have been too late. Maia would have been gone, at least the Maia you love. Or worse, he would have killed her. They have no control... not once they have the taste of blood."

Suddenly, it was all too much. Caroline rose suddenly and ran for the adjoining bathroom. Her Maia, her beautiful, innocent daughter, taken away from her. Inhuman. Lost. Gone. Dead. And she had thought the magical world so good, so exciting? Marius and Cassiopeia looked at each other as they heard Caroline being violently sick.

"Shall I go and take care of her, brother? It must be a lot for her."

Marius nodded, and Cassiopeia turned to leave. Marius dashed after her and grabbed her arm. "Cassiopeia," he paused, "sister, I want to thank you. I know that this cannot be easy for you, to be here with us, like this. And I want to thank you, I never realised. I do not know how I could have lived, yet along lived with myself, had Maia ever been hurt."

Cassiopeia nodded. Her heart thudded slowly inside her chest. "You could never have known, Marius. You were never taught to look. And as for this being difficult, it is surprisingly easy. Family comes first. Family always comes first." She even cracked a weak smile, "And there are so few of us left, we cannot afford to be picky." She nodded again and went to care for Caroline.

Marius paced the room once more before leaving and marching to his study. He stopped by Maia's door and peered in to see her sleeping peacefully, wrapped up tightly in her duvet. He would never let anyone hurt his daughter. He would do anything to protect her. He closed the door quietly and walked to his study. He was still fuming when he sat down to his desk and pulled out a pen and sheet of paper.

_Lupin,_

_I know what you are. I know who you were turned by. I know who you are therefore in league with. I will die before I let you harm a hair on my daughter's head. Do not even think about coming here tomorrow. Never come near my family again. _

_My sister will be staying with us, to ensure my daughter is protected. Do not attempt to approach the house. It will be viewed as an attack. My sister will use deadly force. I for one would not be sorry to see you dead. I have no mercy for a beast who intends to attack my daughter. _

_M.B._

He didn't bother to seal the letter. When he went back to the bedroom, he found Caroline and Cassiopeia sitting in silence, waiting for him. He walked to his sister and handed the piece of paper to her.

"Could you see this delivered before the morning? And do you approve?"

She glanced down at the paper. "I agree with every word. I will owl it to him now and return directly."

She stood up and vanished as Marius crossed the room and sat next to Caroline, pulling his shaking wife into a tight embrace.

...


	18. The Ripples Of Every Lie Will Spread

**Thank you for the reviews, the Hogwarts years will be soon! And yes, I am sorry for everyone who feels sorry for Remus, but I don't think he ever had a particularly happy life until he found Tonks, and even then... As ever, reviews and constructive criticism are always welcome.**

**Anyway, I solemnly swear that I do not own Harry Potter. Everything you recognise belongs to J.K Rowling. I only write this for a hobby. **

Chapter Eighteen

For some people, change is the spice of life, while others find comfort and solace in routine. Others, however, simply accept monotony as their lot. Druella Black, despite having been born into a colourful, swirling world of calls and balls and various garden parties, had long since accepted that the latter was the inevitable path of her life, or at least her old age.

She rose each and every morning and dressed, either in black velvet or black silk, with a heavy black veil that trailed down her back and served to cover her face when she left the confines of her retreat, her sanctuary. Once she had dressed, she took her morning walk around the rose garden. She would then take a light breakfast and respond to her meagre correspondence. Distance does not really make the heart fonder after all, especially in a family where few members actually have a heart, and so the distance only served to make the heart more forgetful. Then, she would take elevenses, followed by an afternoon spent reading, embroidering, adjusting her will or entertaining herself at the piano or the harp. After being waited on for a formal sit down dinner, attended only by herself, she would direct the polishing of the silverware before retiring for the night.

Such was the life of an unwanted, unpopular and unvisited woman of independent means.

The lush green hills, the beauty of the landscape and the clarity of the sky was lost on her. Like Azkaban, her prison did not need bars or walls, for her mind had imprisoned itself.

Sitting down at her writing desk, she saw that she had three letters waiting for her. The first was from Narcissa, which only reminded her of how very isolated she was. Two daughters were lost to her entirely, and the third she had never really known. Narcissa had always been her prettiest daughter, but she had always been the quietest, the most placid. She had never really _said_ anything. She had spoken, plenty, and she had always spoken correctly, politely, articulately, but she had never _expressed_ any sort of feeling or opinion. She had been like water, directed this way and that by the curves of the banks, but not the current of her own self.

Did she have anything to say to Bellatrix? What can one say to a daughter who one has failed entirely? They had always gloried in Bella's conviction, they had taught it to her, they had encouraged her. When she had boiled puppies, claiming she was practising for mudbloods, had they ever thought to check her? They had laughed. They had praised her. It was only now that she realised that she should have feared for her daughter. Of course, her daughter was right in principle, but their mistake was to never teach her, to never realise themselves, that she might fail, that she might lose, that someone else might be more powerful. What can one say to that?

_I'm sorry?_

Since when has a Black, or a Rosier for that matter, apologised? And what was there to say now anyway?

_I hope you're well?_

Druella had no doubt in her mind that Bellatrix would be too far gone to ever be 'well' again. She had been in Azkaban for so many years.

_I miss you_?

Druella had never really lived under the same roof as Bellatrix since she was eleven. She saw her for six weeks every summer, and had her betrothed before she turned eighteen, and married within two weeks of her Hogwarts graduation. If Druella had ever missed her, she had stopped a long time ago.

_I love you?_

Druella had not once told any of her children that she loved them, it wasn't the done thing, and she wasn't about to start making exceptions now.

In truth, she had nothing to say, nothing that mattered at least, nothing that meant anything.

She pulled the parchment towards her, smoothing it out.

_Dear Narcissa,_

_Thank you for your correspondence. I am pleased that you, Lucius and Draco are well. Please convey my regards to Bellatrix and inform her of my continued good health._

_Your mother,_

_Druella Black._

Druella turned to her next two letters. The first was from Irma, who was her only regular correspondent. As two dowagers among strangers in a new world where the watchword was _equality_, they took comfort in each other, in remembering the old days and the old ways, even if Irma was, in fact, her mother-in-law.

The next was a thick envelope from Melania.

Druella Rosier had never like Melania Black, and she had liked her even less when she had had to bow and scrape to her as Lady of the House of Black, when she, Druella came from the House of Rosier, which was far superior, or had been far superior, to the House of Macmillan. Now the Dowager Lady of the House, Melania took it upon herself to write her long letters, glorying in her 'darling' grandchildren, the continued strength of the Macmillan House and insisting that Druella 'return to society' at her side.

Druella rolled her eyes, knowing that she would much prefer to burn that particular letter than read it. Instead, she reached for the letter opener and sliced the seal of Irma's far more welcome letter.

_Dear Druella_

_I hope that this letter finds you well. I, myself, am in the same health as ever and have nothing to complain about on that front._

_However, I find that I have many other complaints. _

_I take comfort in the continued strength and __purity__ of the House of Crabbe, and although it may be small comfort to you, and as my daughter-in-law you have my sincerest and heartfelt condolences, you can at least take pride in the fact that the House of Rosier never stooped to a position beneath its dignity, __nor__ abandoned the dignity which made it a great and noble House. The House of Black, it pains me to observe and makes me grateful that I am __not a Black by blood__, has thrown its principles into the gutter and is consorting and promoting 'witches' of the __lowest order__, if they are even worthy of a title such as that. _

_Cassiopeia Andromeda, who as you know has been acting as Head of House since the death of my own Pollux, is not content to allow her House to come to a dignified end. I would sooner watch the Crabbe line end a hundred, nay a thousand times, than watch a filthy piece of __Squib-spawn__ take over as the leader. If they can find a pureblood willing to marry her (and if they do, I question the __purity __of __their__ blood if they hold it in so little value) the line will nevertheless be forever tainted. _

_You know, of course, __to whom__ I am referring. _

_However, the situation has now become ever more desperate. At first, Cassiopeia seemed willing to accept her after hearing of her 'prodigious' magical ability. I find her mediocre at best, and by far inferior to her cousins, especially my own dear Vincent, who you know has no shortage of Rosier blood and Rosier talent. I shudder to think that Cassiopeia expects me to teach that girl who is little more than a mudblood. _

_Now, however, she has lowered herself further. It seemed the girl was endangered by a werewolf, an associate of Greyback. I, for one, could see little danger once I had considered the matter. For a girl so woefully lacking in proper blood, it would make little difference to become a wolf once a month, as she is little more than an animal the rest of the time. Yet Cassiopeia could not bear this and personally intervened to save the girl, and is currently living, not only with the girl, but with her __abomination of a father__ and her __filth of a mother__! I beg you for advice, dear Druella, how am I to proceed from circumstances __such as this__? I genuinely begin to fear that she will name the spawn her heir, when by rights, it should go to the child with the __purest Black blood__ remaining, which should, of course, be young Draco Malfoy. He is such a handsome boy, and already heir to the House of Malfoy. I have a niece I would simply love to betroth him to, although she is still too young yet. _

_I am quite at a loss and beg for your sympathy in my plight and hour of need. I can hardly bear to believe it, but I fear it must be true, that we shall indeed live to see the fall of some of our country's finest and purest families. _

_Though it pains me to sign my name thus,_

_Your humble correspondent, _

_Irma Black._

Druella sat a little straighter and brushed a delicate tear from her eye. It was truly dreadful news, and to think that her grandson could be passed over for that little mudblood had her ringing for a cup of fortifying tea from her house elf.

...

A day or two later, Narcissa Malfoy hugged her son and husband goodbye and tucked a healthy-sized portion of chocolate into her robes. Normally, she avoided such indulgences in order to better control her famously perfect figure, but she knew that her trip today made such indulgences a necessity.

Taking one last look around her beautiful home, for which she was so grateful, she closed her eyes and vanished. When she opened them again, she was standing on a wooden dock as the howling wind raged around her. She shuddered as a wave lashed violently against the jutting cliff beside her and showered her with cold, dirty, salty sea water. A young Auror, his badger Patronus alongside him, stepped forwards.

"Good day, Mrs. Malfoy, I am Auror Smethley. I have the confirmed paperwork here that you have arranged to visit your sister, Mrs. Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black, born 1951, daughter of Cygnus Black and Druella Black nee Rosier. Is that correct?"

She looked the young man, barely out of training, up and down coolly, "Yes, that is indeed the case."

"May I inspect your wand as verification of your identity?"

Wordlessly, she handed him her wand, which he tapped with his own three times before passing it back to her.

"Thank you very much, ma'am. You may find it beneficial to cast your own Patronus, if you wish, but other than that, you are free to follow me. Your sister will remain in her cell, and another Auror will supervise from a considerate distance."

Narcissa Malfoy nodded once, before silently casting her Patronus, a dove.*** **He helped her into the small boat that took them across the freezing sea, tossing them about as the storm roared above them. She felt quite faint already when he helped her out.

Her dove glided in front of her as the young man led the way through dark, dirty passageways between the cells. Thin, spindly arms reached out pleadingly towards her. She flinched and wrapped her thick cloak around her so they didn't have anything to grab hold of.

"Please miss.."

"Spare a bit, miss..."

"Have a pity miss..."

"Please miss..."

The pale lamps meant that the walkways were dim and the pale, ashen limbs of many of the inmates stood out starkly against the darkness. She continued to follow the man, looking up at the Dementors who lay in wait above the cells.

She snapped off a piece of chocolate and ate it quickly.

"_Mrs. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy, just breathe, please, keeping breathing and stay calm." The Mediwitch hushed her and held her down as she reached out._

"_My baby, please, what's wrong?"_

"_The Healer has him, Mrs. Malfoy. Just stay calm, shall I send for your husband?"_

_She shook her head. Merlin, no, she couldn't see Lucius now, she just wanted to see her baby. Merlin, she didn't even care about seeing her baby, she just wanted to hear her baby. Why wasn't he crying? They had said the baby would cry? Why wasn't he crying? What was wrong with her baby?_

_The silence never seemed to end._

_A baby's scream filled the air..._

She shook herself and took another bite of the chocolate, followed by a steadying breath. Oh Merlin, those awful moments when Draco had been silent...

_She dropped the letter in her hand, tears streaming down her face. Her sister was gone, gone forever. Her mother was huddled in the corner crying. Her father had stormed out of the room to look for the mudblood. Bellatrix was taking her anger out on the family tree..._

_Her mother was on her doorstep shaking. Her father was gone..._

_The Aurors were waiting outside, to take Lucius away for questioning..._

_Barty Crouch's voice filled the stifled courtroom. "I sentence you to life imprisonment in Azkaban, without appeal."..._

"Here, Mrs. Malfoy. This is your sister's cell." He nodded smartly and left. Narcissa steeled herself and cast her Patronus again, wishing she were better at it. She should have bought Lucius with her, he was much better with these sorts of things than she was.

Narcissa leant forwards, touching the cold bars. The darkness hanging over the cell made it impossible to see inside properly. "Bella? Bella, are you there? It's me, Cissy."

Suddenly, her sister leapt forwards, her face twisted. She leant back her head and cackled, "Have you come from the Dark Lord? Has my master sent you?" Bellatrix's voice rasped and was deeper than Narcissa remembered.

Narcissa's breath caught in her throat. "No, Bella, not... not yet. It's just me."

Bellatrix hissed, "Then why did you come?"

"I missed you."

Bellatrix cackled. "Don't miss me. This is nothing, I'm only waiting. When will the Dark Lord send for me?"

"I don't know, Bella. Mother said to tell you that she's well." Narcissa paused, knowing full well how stilted and ridiculous it all sounded. Her dove rested on her shoulder and she felt a little better. "She sends you her regards."

Bellatrix's laugh turned spiteful. "Be sure to convey mine in return."

Narcissa nodded, not sure how to meet the wild, crazed gaze of her sister. "Of course." She paused again. "Draco is well. He's going to be a very powerful wizard, one day."

Bellatrix looked at her sharply. "Draco? Who is Draco?" Bella paused again and tilted her head, looking at the Dementor filled sky above. "I know, I know now. Draco is my little dragon. You are training him, yes? You train him to be strong, to be a fighter for the Dark Lord? When he is big, you must send him to the Dark Lord, send him to be a dragon for the Dark Lord and the Dark Lord's cause."

Narcissa turned away. "He's just a little boy, Bella."

"But one day, he will be big. Not my little dragon, he will be our big dragon." Bellatrix cackled again.

Narcissa stepped back.

"I like the Dementors." Said Bellarix softly, staring up at them again, "I fought with them before. I helped them Kiss the filth and the mudbloods and the half-breeds. They are my friends, they're your friends too, aren't they Cissy? You're still loyal, aren't you, Cissy?"

Narcissa nodded, "Of course, I'm always loyal, always."

A voice called from the shadows. "Time's up, Mrs. Malfoy."

"I have to go, Bella."

Bellatrix had already disappeared, cackling, back into the shadows.

The bars rattled as she walked past and more hands reached out to grab her. One got a firm grip and pulled her close. She shrank back from his rancid breath.

"Cissy? Cissy, it's you, isn't it? Where's Harry? What happened to my boy? And Annie, do you know Annie? My girl, Marlene's girl? How is Annie? Is she safe? Is she happy?"

Narcissa stammered, "Siri?"

A blast from the Auror's wand sent Sirius flying backwards and knocked Narcissa to the ground. The Auror, this time a young woman, darted forwards and helped her to her feet. "Are you alright, Mrs. Malfoy? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

The girl looked concerned. Narcissa composed herself and shook her head. Following her out of the compound, Narcissa Malfoy returned home and collapsed into the waiting arms of her husband.

...

It took Narcissa Malfoy the rest of the day to recover from her ordeal, and she was still deeply shaken when she rose the next morning. She wasn't sure she would ever feel quite so... quite so _sure_ of herself, quite so sure of who she was ever again after an experience such as that. And she kept remembering those awful, awful memories and she kept imagine her world without Lucius and Draco.

Perhaps it was that, or a previously unknown remnant of affection for her cousin, that took Mrs. Malfoy to the Ministry records the next day. Yet once she found the information, she knew she had to write. If anything were to happen to Draco, she would want to know, even if it was the very worst thing. Sirius' life couldn't get any worse as it was, she reasoned, and perhaps he had known before and had forgotten in the madness? Part of her even thought she ought to tell him, just to punish him for what he'd done.

He'd killed children that day as well. Mothers, even if they _were_ muggles, would never get over what he had done.

Perhaps he deserved what had happened to him.

She forced herself to remain cold and detached, knowing that this letter would be searched before he read it.

She dipped her quill in the ink and began to write.

...

Remus Lupin lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He had only gotten up in the last four days to relieve himself and retrieve food and fire whiskey.

He had not shaved or washed.

His head was spinning with a thumping headache. He leaned over and grabbed the nearest bottle of fire whiskey to take a swig, when he realised it was empty he threw it against the opposing wall with a roar worthy of the beast inside of him.

He went back to staring at the ceiling.

Two letters lay on the best next to him. One from Marius Black, which had destroyed his life, and another from Dumbledore, which had only destroyed it further.

Marius Black believed him to be in league with Fenrir Greyback and planning to attack Maia. Remus had no idea of the full story but he was sure what ever tale that foul woman had spun had been most convincing. And he had no way to refute her claims; any attempt to approach them would be viewed as an attack. The thought of Maia running from him and cowering in fear made him throw the next whiskey bottle at the wall. This one was still half full and the contents dribbled to the floor as the glass smashed violently.

Dumbledore had told him that he should never have interfered with the Blacks in the first place. Apparently, he had full confidence in the Blacks to raise Maia. According to Dumbledore, he gave up the right to interfere the moment he declared that he didn't want her. But still! She, along with Marius and Caroline, were now under the ever-so watchful eye of Cassiopeia Black, no doubt helped along by here even more morally reprehensible sister-in-law Irma. Did Dumbledore really think that that would make sure Maia was raised properly?

She would turn into her father. No doubt that was what those two hags had cooked up between them.

But Dumbledore had said he would not intervene. Apparently, he and Marius were no longer on good terms. He would write to them soon to ensure that everything really was ok, but that was really all he could do.

So, Maia was far from his reach now, safely in the arms of the worst of women. If he ever saw little Annie Black, little Maia Black, again, she would not be a lively, mischievous, stubborn child. The stubbornness would probably main, laced with the clear Black arrogance. The liveliness would be tamed to poise and perfection. He had already seen that happening. They had all said she was 'growing up', but she wasn't 'growing up' at all, she was being changed. The mischief would be changed to cunning and plotting. She would be trained as the perfect Black, educated, sophisticated, confident and heartless. And probably up to her eyes in blood purist nonsense, if not the Dark Arts.

Then there was Harry... Remus' guilt only increased when he thought of him. He had no right to think about Harry, or to feel sorry for himself because of it. Harry was safe and happy with his muggle relatives, protected by his mother's blood wards and raised by his mother's sister...

And so Remus Lupin lay there, staring at the ceiling, completely and utterly alone.

...

Caroline had not wanted to tell Maia the real reason why Remus Lupin would never darken their doorstep again. She wanted to protect her daughter from the truth about the man she had so respected and admired.

Marius and Cassiopeia both wanted her to know the whole truth, so that she would learn to always be on her guard. In the end they had compromised. She would be told he was a werewolf, and that werewolves were dangerous. She would not be told that he was linked to a wider plot to turn magical children into werewolves. That was going too far. The cover story for everyone else would be that Marius had decided he was incompetent and had asked Cassiopeia to tutor Maia full time.

Maia had been taken aback at first. She refused to believe that her beloved teacher could be dangerous. Maybe he was dangerous once a month, but the rest of the time he was wonderful!

Caroline's eyes had filled with tears at her daughter's sweetness. It was Cassiopeia who shook her head and explained that he wasn't human, he could act, but he couldn't feel. They didn't know why he had come to them, why he had wanted to tutor her but it wasn't safe for him to be around children.

Maia had cried for the rest of the day. She felt as if she had been betrayed.

Marius declared that Maia could have the rest of the week off of school. Together they all went to Quidditch, they went shopping in Diagon Alley, they went to a muggle amusement park (Cassiopeia stayed at home), then went on holiday for a long weekend in their too-often neglected chateau in France.

Gradually, things went back to normal. Things would never be the same as before, but now there would be a new version of normal. Cassiopeia stayed with them for over a month, and during that time, the house took on an increasingly magical air. She blew up the television within three days. It terrified her. Other appliances, such as the radio, were replaced with magical versions but Maia, Marius and Caroline did not object to the changes. The poor woman was old and set in her ways. And she had actually jumped when Maia first turned the television on. She had had no idea what it was.

When they all felt relatively safe again, she returned to live with Irma. There now existed a certain coolness between them that had not been there before. Irma thought Cassiopeia was going soft and did not hesitate to tell her so. Cassiopeia now, on reflection, was truly offended that Irma had not chosen to stand by them in their hour of need. She bore the name Black, as did Maia. Marius and Caroline may mean little to either of them, but Maia lived with them. They all counted, in the end. And that said, over the past month, she had developed a more... accepting stance towards her brother and sister-in-law. They truly cared for Maia, as did she, so she knew she would have to work with them. More than that, her brother was a figure of respect and authority in his own home and a month there had made that clear to her. Caroline may only be a muggle, but she was, at least, aware of the importance of respectability and propriety. She had courage when it was needed and she efficiently performed her duties as a wife and a mother.

Cassiopeia did not have to like them, but she could accept and tolerate them with good breeding and civility. She may have, although she refused to acknowledge it, developed a sort of vaguely patronising fondness for the both of them over that month.

She had also grown to know Maia better. The poor girl was devastated by the loss of the beast and Cassiopeia had quickly found out that she had once been abandoned by her two muggle best friends. From what Caroline had told her, Maia must be viewing this as further evidence that everyone she grew close too would eventually abandon her:

"You should have seen her the day she had an argument with Draco, she covered it well all day, but I found her crying that night, convinced all the other children would stop liking her." Caroline had whispered.

Cassiopeia had been outraged on Maia's behalf. Who were two filthy muggle brats to turn down the friendship of a daughter of, nay the heir to, the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black? She had decided to have a word.

She had found Maia curled up with a book on potions underneath one of the old trees in the garden.

"Maia, come and walk with me. I want to talk to you and I'm not sitting under a tree to do so."

"Yes, Aunt."

They walked slowly around the grounds. The autumn leaves were falling and this was one of the last fine days they would have for months. Winter would be closing in fast.

"I am given to understand that you were once friends with two muggle girls who decided they no longer wanted to be acquainted with you."

Maia could only nod.

"Then I wish to make it clear to you what a very silly girl you are. Your mother informs me that you worry Draco and the other children will abandon you, that you see the departure of the werewolf as somehow connected to this."

Maia shook her head, "No, I know that's different..." Her voice trailed away.

"But you don't deny what your mother said?"

Maia's voice hardened. "She should not have said anything."

It was Cassiopeia's turn to be stern, "You have no right to take that tone, Maia Violetta. You are a daughter of the House of Black and you are to be dutiful and respectful at all times. You should be grateful that your parents take such an interest in your concerns."

Again, all Maia could do was nod.

"Those muggle girls, Maia, are not like us. It is not just that they are not magical, but their world and their lifestyle are very different. There are many more muggles than there are witches and wizards. They will no doubt move around a great deal, have many quarrels, change their ideals, I do not know, but as a result, they will no doubt have a large number of fleeting friendships. We are different, our world is much smaller and we are bound together in secrecy. We have to hide our existence. It is only among each other that we can truly be who we are. That binds us together in a way that does not exist in the muggle world. The friendships we make last a lifetime. It would take a great deal, far more than a petty childhood squabble, to break them. It is why so few witches and wizards are really friends with muggles, they are too fickle. I do not condemn them, that is the nature of their society and their friendships. Ours are different. You magical friends will not abandon you. More than that, the children you learn with now will never abandon you, because they are your family. We all stay together as one. Goodness Maia, Draco looks at you as more than a cousin. I am convinced her sees you as his sister. I promise you, that will never change."

Maia turned to her aunt and flung her arms around her waist, as Cassiopeia patted her head awkwardly, smiling in spite of herself.

...

_For the attention of Sirius Black,_

_I am writing this letter to inform you that I have sought to find out what became of your daughter and godson. Young Harry Potter is well and in the care of his relatives. It is my duty to inform you that Annabelle Black died on the 3__rd__ November 1981, alongside the last living McKinnon, Elena McKinnon, in an attack led by unknown Death Eaters. I have enclosed a copy of the report filed with the Auror Office. The perpetrators remain unknown, but it is believed that the incident was connected to the attack on the Longbottoms, in an attempt to re-establish contact with the fallen He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named._

_My condolences,_

_Narcissa Malfoy._

Sirius handed the letter and report back to the Auror. He wouldn't be allowed to keep them, of course. He didn't want to. The Auror was gone already.

He didn't have the power to transform.

He didn't want to.

He heard Bella cackling and laughed with her. He threw his head back and roared with laughter as tears streamed down his face.

...

*****I've read that a Patronus is personal to each witch and wizard, as shown by Harry's stag and Snape's doe. A dove symbolises love and motherhood, so I felt this would be suitable for Narcissa.


	19. A True Daughter Of the House Of Black

**I still don't own Harry Potter!**

Chapter Nineteen

_Four Years Later..._

That talk had done more to reassure Maia than anything else. From then on, she had a new confidence in her walk. She knew her magical friends would not abandon her. They were bound together in a shared secret, a secret that made their world beautiful, exciting and, well, magical. She walked taller, proud to be a Black, not just because it meant wealth, not just because it meant she had a grand history, not just because it was a behaviour that was drilled into her, but because to be a Black meant to be a part of a family.

They stood together through thick and thin.

Her mother, father and aunt had stood up to _a werewolf_ to defend her. They were one of the most dangerous creatures known to wizard kind. Looking back now, she saw that her younger cousins had banded together to revenge themselves on the elder one who had wronged them, if only through his father.

When Aunt Irma had refused to teach them, and they all knew it was because Maia was 'only' an 'unworthy' half-blood, Aunt Cassiopeia had thrown her out of her home. Irma had gone back to her Crabbe relations whilst Daphne, Draco, Ernie, Gregory and even Vincent had said Irma's actions were wrong. Maia was one of them. They would all be going to Hogwarts together and nothing would ever stop them defending each other. The summer before, they had all sworn to be blood brothers and sisters forever.

Cassiopeia had taught them sternly but well. She took no prisoners, made no exceptions and accepted no excuses. Under her strict regime they had thrived. Even Crabbe and Goyle had managed to learn something. Whilst she could not be expected by anyone to be fully fluent at such a young age, Maia was nevertheless proficient in Latin, French and Gobbledegook. She had a working knowledge of Potions, Herbology, Astronomy and History of Magic. They had done less practical magic, but she had mastered the most basic spells and knew the general theory behind Charms and Transfiguration. She would have to work hard to maintain her position, but she would enter the Hogwarts at the top of her class. The same went for the rest of her cousins. While Maia had something of a natural flair for Potions, Daphne and Ernie were both budding linguists. Draco, on the other hand, was always the first to grasp the concepts of magical theory, and his spell-casting was the strongest.

Cassiopeia had nurtured also her abilities as a Seer. She could See by use of a crystal glass or by touch. She could read tea leaves and Tarot cards. She had had more visions as well, sometimes asleep and sometimes awake.

As Cassiopeia had also taught her, Maia knew that she had to represent her House at all times, and had learnt to put down (most of) her childish things and ways. She walked upright, confident, convinced of her safety and position. She knew to cross her ankles when she sat, she knew to smooth her skirts when she rose, and how to sit without creasing them in the first place.

Cassiopeia had also made sure that the children understood the truth of the wizarding world. Muggles had a tendency towards ignorance and stupidity, and had once made a sport of burning witches and wizards which had, naturally, left behind a lot of bitterness. However, they should simply avoid any muggles who seemed particularly bad or violent and accept that most were rather innocuous. Some, such as Maia's mother, were clearly sensible people who could be trusted with magic, and showed that there could be good and bad on both sides (the Weasleys showed that wizards weren't all perfect). Muggleborns had their place, at the bottom, but should be treated with civility provided they actually showed the wizarding world some respect, though they had a tendency to be jumped-up fools who deserved to be called mudbloods. Maia generally found the use of the word personally distasteful, but her own experience of muggles led her to understand why they (and their magical offspring) could easily be treated with disdain. As wonderful as her mother was, the actions of Holly, Rosie and those two... ghastly boys could not be forgotten.

For her ninth birthday, Maia had received her wand. It had been a gift from Narcissa Malfoy, who had given it to her with tears in her eyes. She told her that her sister had gone, but that this wand must have felt the Black blood in Maia and attached itself to her. No wand wants to lie unused and unwanted, as silent as death. A wand wants life and that was what Maia meant, she was a brand new life and that was what the wand should have. Aunt Narcissa did not want the dead wand to serve as a metaphorical coffin to the lost sister.

Uncle Lucius had even shook her hand that birthday, and told her she would be a fine witch. Malfoy Manor had become Maia's third, if not her second home, after Aunt Cassiopeia's mansion. She was Draco's best friend and the last of the Blacks and the apple of Cassiopeia's eye, who, it had to be said, would have many galleons to dispense in her will. So, where Draco could love as a sister and Narcissa could fantasise about her lost siblings, Lucius could be pragmatic and recognise that he had to tolerate the half-blood brat.

Maia knew the wand was powerful and the moment she had declared ownership of it, the sparks had flown and her whole body had felt doubly alive. The wand, in that moment, became an extra limb.

It had come of a shock for her to learn exactly what that extra limb of hers had done.

When her Hogwarts letter had arrived, she had been summoned to the dinner table for a 'talk' with her mother, father and aunt. She could not go to Hogwarts without knowing the full truth about the Wizarding War and the role her family had played in it. The 'dear Bellatrix' she so closely resembled had murdered and tortured her way into Azkaban. They told her a good many Black relatives were there. Worse still, the sons and daughters of their victims would be her classmates.

She had cried when she had been told. She flung her wand away and cried some more, begging to be taken to Ollivanders and sent to Beauxbatons instead.

It was Caroline, oddly, who took it back to her. It was not the wand that cast the curses, but the woman. She, Maia, could give the wand a new life. The wand had been happy to find her, so the wand should not be punished for the crimes of its former mistress. At this, Maia had dried her eyes and vowed to put the wand to better use. After all, the people in Azkaban were murders, those left behind were not. She was not guilty, her mother was not guilty and neither were her aunt or her father or her cousins or the Malfoys. Narcissa Malfoy had cried handing over this wand, because evil had robbed from her the sister she could not stop loving. Maia was young, it was true, but she could see the sorrow and love in her Aunt Narcissa's eyes and, truth be told, she knew she could not throw away this wand because part of her told her it would break the heart of her best friend's mother.

It didn't matter what her relatives had done, she could do what she wanted. She could walk tall and proud because she was a Black and she had dignity and decorum because of it. Her friends, her true friends, would never abandon her and Draco, Vincent and Gregory had all had similar talks. They would all get through this together, Maia was sure, whatever the world decided to throw at them.

And that morning, Maia Violetta Black woke up in the knowledge that at 11am, she would be on the train to Hogwarts.

...

At 10.20am Maia crossed the barrier of platform nine and three quarters and hurried away to get changed. Her mother was already crying when she returned in her Hogwarts robes. Caroline had been holding back tears all morning. Narcissa was not holding up much better as she pulled Draco into a tight hug. Lucius was carefully observing the goings-on around the rest of the station. He sneered when he saw a muggle woman giving their group odd looks. Presumably she had never seen wizard robes before.

Marius's face was stoic but he also hugged Maia fiercely as she went to board the train. Cassiopeia was the only one, apart from Draco and Maia, who seemed truly happy. She gave Draco, and Maia especially, a long lecture on the importance of displaying their good-breeding at all times. She promised to send on extra books so that they could keep up with the extra-curricular studies, although Cassiopeia knew that of all her students, only Maia and perhaps Ernie would continue to do so diligently.

After one last hug from her mother, who passed her a large box of food from Trixie and promised that much more would follow, Maia ran towards the train. She tugged her trunk along, but it was heavy and slowed her down. She looked up to see that she'd lost Draco in the crush. Her heart sank, but she knew he would make room for her when she caught up with him again. It didn't matter how crowded their compartment would be, she, Draco, Daphne, Ernie, Vincent and Gregory had made a pact that they would make this first trip together or not at all.

She stumbled backwards and realised she had walked straight into another first year. "I'm terribly sorry!" cried Maia, "This trunk is so abominably heavy that I was concentrating more on dragging it than looking where I was going. I am sorry."

The other girl, who had been knocked to the ground, stood up and brushed herself off. Like Maia, she had already changed into her robes. She had a friendly smile with rather large front teeth and very bushy brown hair. "Not a problem, they are heavy aren't they? My name is Hermione Granger, by the way."

She stuck out her hand and Maia knew instantly that she was a muggleborn. She reached out and shook it. She tried not to be awkward about it, but she had never shaken a hand before and wasn't sure if she had done it right. "My name is Maia Black, I'm pleased to meet you." She had to be polite to the girl, regardless of what _type_ of muggleborn she turned out to me. Would she be vile and spiteful against more magical people? Maia looked her up and down and decided that she didn't seem too dreadful, and smiled.

Hermione, who seemed rather nervous, took this as encouragement, "I'm pleased to meet you as well. Wasn't it wonderful when we got our letters? I was ever so pleased. Of course, it was quite a surprise, I didn't know I was a witch before but I'm so looking forward to Hogwarts. I've read all about it. Have you?"

Maia nodded, "Yes, I have a book on it, and my family taught me about it. My family are magical, you see. I sat up all night waiting for my letter, I was so excited, but fell asleep and missed the owl! My mother had to take it!" Maia laughed easily, as ease had been taught to her, but saw the girl suddenly looked nervous.

"Does it matter, not having a magical family? Does it make a difference?"

Maia paused, it did make a difference in that you didn't have the history or the culture. You didn't have a long line of magical relatives who were bound together by a secret and the need to protect each other, but she knew, as a half blood, that it didn't make a difference to your magic, regardless of what Draco and some of the others might sometimes imply. "No, not at all. Some things are different, because we have a different culture. But the magic makes no difference in the end."

The girl looked immensely relieved. "Oh, I'm so glad you said that! I was rather worried. I was top of my class back home and I didn't want to be at the bottom here. I've read all the text books and even practised a few spells and everything worked fine for me."

"Well, you'll be fine then." Said Maia. The train was moving now so the corridors were much less busy. It was quite nice to be standing here talking to Hermione. Maia found she was enjoying herself and was starting to look forward to all the new friends she would make. Even if she was a muggleborn, that didn't mean she _had_ to be bad. Even Aunt Cassiopeia admitted that.

"But what do you mean, what differences are there?"

Maia frowned, "Well, I haven't spent much time in the muggle world so I don't know all of them, but I know that muggles shake hands to say hello, where here only wizards shake hands. Wizards bow to witches, while witches curtsey to wizards and other witches."

Hermione laughed, "How terribly old fashioned!" but she dropped into a curtsey anyway, which Maia returned.

"That's just how we do things, it's not old fashioned to us."

Hermione looked somewhat unconvinced, but continued talking, "So, do you know which House you want to be in?"

Maia paused, "I'm not sure. Most of my family have been in Slytherin, and I would like to join them, but Ravenclaw also sounds like a lot of fun. I love reading."

Hermione nodded enthusiastically, pleased that she had already found someone studious like herself. That had got her picked on in her last school, but at least here, she and Maia might be able to be studious together. "Oh yes, I did like the sound of Ravenclaw, although everyone seems to think Gryffindor's the best. Doesn't Slytherin have a reputation, you know? Wasn't it You-Know-Who's old House?" Maia flushed and Hermione was instantly embarrassed. She'd just ruined her first chance at a real friend. "I'm so sorry... I didn't mean..."

Maia shook her head, knowing that Hermione couldn't have any idea how personal a remark that had become since she had received her letter, "It's quite alright, it is true. But we're eleven years old. Do I look evil to you? I won't have suddenly become evil by the time I go to bed tonight if I do get put into Slytherin!" Maia laughed here at the thought, "My Aunt Cassiopeia, Aunt Narcissa and Uncle Lucius were all in Slytherin, and none of them are bad people. Slytherin traits are meant to include cunning, organisation, resourcefulness and determination. It might not be noble or daring, but you can do good things by being cunning. A lot of it's about being clever too."

Hermione nodded, "That's true. We are only eleven!" She even started to laugh as well. "But I do like the sound of Ravenclaw, will you save me a seat if you get there first and I join you?"

Maia smiled a tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, "Of course."

Just then a chubby boy ran up behind them, "Excuse me, excuse me! Have you seen Trevor, my toad? I've lost him already and my gran'll be furious when she finds out."

The boy did a small double take when he looked at Maia and she knew instantly why. He was Neville Longbottom. She put on her nicest smile. "I'm really sorry, I haven't seen him. I'll try and catch him if I do." The boy eyed her warily.

"Yes, of course," added Hermione, "would you like me to help you look? I'm sure if we organised our search properly and methodically, we'd find him much quicker. We should go through each of the compartments in order and ask if they've seen him. That way we should be able to track and monitor the toad's last known location."

"Oh yes please! That's such a clever idea!" cried the boy, who looked overjoyed.

"Would you like to help, Maia?"

Maia looked from Hermione to Neville. While she definitely wanted to spend more time with Hermione, she didn't want to talk to Neville. It made her insides squirm with guilt to know what her wand had done.

No, not her wand.

What Bellatrix Lestrange had done.

What she would never, ever do.

"I'm so sorry, but I ought to find my cousin. I promised I would. I did mean it about catching the toad if I saw it though."

With that, the three parted company and Maia made her way down the carriage to look for Draco. Perhaps she and Hermione could continue talking later, when they were both sorted into Ravenclaw, she thought with a wry smile. She truly had no idea where she would go. Draco and Aunt Cassiopeia were adamant she would be a Slytherin. Dad was inclined to agree, but also thought Gryffindor was a strong possibility because of her audacious pranks. Aunt Cassiopeia had been offended at the suggestion that any Black would be Sorted into _that _House. Mum was certain that she would be a Ravenclaw, but had always said that Hufflepuff sounded like the nicest place to be.

Maia shuddered at the thought of what Aunt Cassiopeia would say if she became a Hufflepuff, and inwardly raged knowing that Aunt Irma would gloat spectacularly.

Maia didn't get far before she saw Draco with Gregory and Vincent in a compartment talking to a Weasley; the red hair gave him away. She seethed, thinking of his horrid, prejudiced father. She looked again, and saw that Harry Potter was there. Harry Potter could do so much better! She caught herself, a little nervous about to talk to the most famous person in the wizarding world, but steeled herself. She pulled back the compartment door and stuck her head in.

"Hello, I'm ever so sorry." She said, looking from Harry to Weasley, "I just wanted to speak to Draco." She turned to him, "I lost you in the crowd, did you find a compartment free? And could you help me carry my trunk, it's so heavy!"

Weasley turned to her accusingly, "You know this plank then?"

Maia opened her mouth looking shocked and Harry looked a little taken aback as well. She stepped into the compartment and held her head high, tilting it stubbornly and a little arrogantly, before replying, "Yes, Draco's my cousin."

Weasley looked her up and down, "And who might you be, then?"

In spite of his rudeness, she dropped into a curtsey, to which neither Harry nor Weasley responded. That was very harsh! What had she done to offend either of them? "I'm Maia, Maia Black. I'm pleased to meet you. Who are you?"

She looked from Harry to Weasley. Of course, she knew who Harry was already, but she was certain he must not like to have everyone all about him before they even said hello. She wouldn't like that if it were her. Ron just kept staring at her whilst Harry stepped forward to offer her his hand. Maia remembered then that he had been raised by muggles. For the second time in her life, Maia shook another person's hand. "I'm Harry, Harry Potter." He said.

Maia was suddenly taken aback by how small and scruffy he looked. Surely the Boy-Who-Lived would be better dressed? Would hold his dignity in higher regard? Well, perhaps he was of the modern sort Aunt Cassiopeia so dearly loved to rage about. Either way, he seemed a perfectly reasonable human being. She inclined her head and smiled. "I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance."

Maia realised Weasley hadn't answered her at all, so etiquette dictated she do anything available to ease the mounting tension in the room. Draco was already glaring daggers at the pair of them and she wondered what had been said before she arrived. Vincent and Gregory glared menacingly. She caught sight of a beautiful snowy owl. "Oh, that owl is magnificent, does she belong to either of you?" The owl seemed to know what she said as it hooted appreciatively.

"Thank you, she's mine." Said Harry, "Her name's Hedwig."

Maia smiled, "That's a lovely name, this is my cat, Askella." She said, pointing towards the silver-grey cat curled up in her cat box.

Harry opened his mouth when Weasley suddenly spat, "Black? Did you say your name's Black?"

Maia paled slightly, "Yes, I'm sorry...?"

Draco flushed and interrupted her, "I don't see why you should start to apologise, cousin. Have you got a problem, Weasel?"

"Draco, that's awfully rude!"

"Oh, be quiet and don't pretend," snapped Weasley at her, ignoring Draco. He turned to Harry, "The Blacks and the Malfoys are all purebloods and proud blood-purists. They look down on people like us. I bet they were all really sad when you defeated You-Know-Who."

"That's not true!" She answered back.

"Oh come off it, prove it!"

"Well, you're the one who bought up blood-status, not us." She retorted, tossing her hair over her shoulder with all the disdain she could muster. Askella sensed the insult to her mistress and hissed. A rat, which Maia had not noticed before, scurried and hid behind Weasley's backpack.

"And what would you know about anything, Weasel? Have you found the brain in your head that you've been hiding for the last ten minutes?" Sneered Draco, furious at the slight against their family. Turning to Harry he held out his hand and said "I think we met before, I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy. You're welcome to come and sit in our compartment. You don't have to mix with riff raff like Weasley here. You ought to make sure that you make friends with the right sort, I can help you out there."

Harry looked Draco up and down coolly. "No thanks, I think I can find the right sort myself, thank you." Harry made no move to shake Draco's hand, which Ron found hysterical. He could barely contain himself. That was very cruel, on Weasley's part. Harry, she was sure, had no idea of the level of an insult he was making. It was one of the rudest things a wizard could do to another. And knowing Draco like she did, he wouldn't accept ignorance as an appropriate excuse for the snub.

"Very well, Potter, but you should watch your tongue or you'll meet a sticky end." With that Draco, turned out of the compartment and directed Vincent and Gregory to carry Maia's trunk between them. Draco would have said more, but Maia was there and he had long ago decided that she was the exception to the rule and he didn't want to upset her on today of all days. It did make him smile the way Weasley had assumed she was a pureblood, it just went to prove that they were all right about her.

Maia turned back to the two boys stiffly, "It was very nice to meet you Harry, you'll have to excuse Draco. He has a temper sometimes." She pointedly ignored Weasley, who had never bothered to introduce himself. She didn't want to quarrel with Harry Potter, but the Weasley boy had been vile, absolutely vile, and she couldn't ignore that. She set her jaw and firmly tilted her chin into the look Aunt Cassiopeia had taught her would convey 'the classic Black pride' and left the compartment.

As she closed the door, she could hear Weasley, apparently named Ron, telling Harry about the links both the Blacks and the Malfoys had to Death Eaters and You Know Who. Her heart sank. He was even talking about Draco's father when the poor man and been under the Imperius curse! And then he started telling Harry how she looked exactly like another Death Eater, Bellatrix Lestrange, who was currently in Azkaban for unspeakable crimes. She ducked out of the way when Harry turned back to look at the door in horror, clearly thinking he had had an unlucky escape.

She shook herself and went to follow Draco. He had stood up for her. She would always stand up for him. Everyone else was insignificant.

...

She could feel Weasley glaring at both her and Draco as they waited to be Sorted into their Houses. She was nervous but managed to hide it after Draco squeezed her hand. She also felt a bit better when she heard the vile Weasley boy talking about Troll wrestling. Clearly, he had no idea what was coming. At least she knew all that was facing her was a hat. To relax, she replayed her first glimpse of Hogwarts from the boat she had rowed across the lake in. It was beautiful. Hermione smiled at her when she caught her eye as they formed a line. She smiled back.

Professor McGonagall gave them a long speech, but Maia decided that although she was clearly not a woman to be crossed, she had nothing on Aunt Cassiopeia and, besides, Maia knew already that her uniform was immaculate.

She followed the group onto the stage and ignored the sea of faces staring up at them, focussing only on the hat that would tell her where she was going. Confidence, decorum and poise at all times, she told herself, recalling Aunt Cassiopeia's many lectures on behaviour in order to try and forget the nerves that were flaring back up. She really hoped she would be with Draco and the others, and Hermione as well.

She closed her eyes when the hat opened its mouth and burst into song:

_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
>But don't judge on what you see,<br>I'll eat myself if you can find  
>A smarter hat than me.<em>

_You can keep your bowlers black,  
>Your top hats sleek and tall,<br>For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
>And I can top them all.<em>

_There's nothing hidden in your head  
>The Sorting Hat can't see,<br>So try me on and I will tell you  
>Where you ought to be.<em>

_You might belong in Gryffindor,  
>Where dwell the brave at heart,<br>Their daring, nerve and chivalry  
>Set Gryffindors apart;<em>

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
>Where they are just and loyal,<br>Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
>And unafraid of toil;<em>

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
>If you've a steady mind,<br>Where those of wit and learning,  
>Will always find their kind;<em>

_Or perhaps in Slytherin  
>You'll make your real friends,<br>Those cunning folk use any means  
>To achieve their ends.<em>

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
>And don't get in a flap!<br>You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
>For I'm a Thinking Cap!<em>

She was pleased, at least, to not have to go first. She heard Draco snort when 'Abbot, Hannah' went to Hufflepuff.

Then, all too soon, her name was called.

"Black, Maia."

She heard the hall go silent. They were all staring at her. There were Death Eaters by the name of Black, the worst of Death Eaters included, Sirius Black. He was some kind of distant cousin. She felt a little sick, knowing what they must be thinking. But, as mum had said, she was her own person. She might get some stares at first, but they would all soon know her for who she was. And, she thought, having the Boy-Who-Lived in her year would mean that people forgot her sooner.

Her legs didn't seem to be working. Draco elbowed her discreetly.

"Black, Maia" called the professor again and Maia mentally kicked herself, walking forward with her head held high and her face a stoic imitation of her father's that morning. She would now have to make up for her previous lapse. Her long black hair, which fell loose to her waist, glistened in the candlelight. She lifted the hat and sat down, placing it upon her head as if she were bestowing the greatest gift in the world upon it.

"Well, well, well Miss. Black, that was quite a show of courage. I can feel how scared you were. Perhaps Gryffindor is the place for you?" said the Sorting Hat.

"But perhaps not, some might call your pranks brave, but they're equally cunning and perhaps a little cruel. Did you really _need_ to do that to the Diggory boy?"

_Yes, I did, it was a matter of principle._

The Sorting Hat paused, "Well, you're loyal, yet although it's been a while since I had to Sort a Black, I recognise the family well. I think you have a little too much of the Black arrogance to really be a Hufflepuff. You don't really have the loyalty that dear Helga was looking for, do you?"

_I'm loyal to the people who matter._

"I don't doubt that. I think we have two viable options, Ravenclaw or Slytherin. You do enjoy your books, and you're very dedicated to your studies. I remember Cassiopeia Black well, I've no doubt that you're as accomplished as she would desire you to be, after all, she wouldn't settle for anything less. Yet, you hold some very strong feelings about your family, and our world that would align you to some of Slytherin's traditions as well. Perhaps you study to uphold these traditions, to please you family, more than you do to learn for learning's sake? Do you have an opinion on the matter?"

_I'd rather not go to Hufflepuff, if you don't mind. I'm sure Draco would forgive me, but he'd never let me live it down, and I have no intention of answering to Diggory's beck and call when the 'golden boy' is undoubtedly made a prefect. Ravenclaw would be perfectly acceptable though. I don't really mind, I just want to be with my friends and family and I think most of them will go to Slytherin, but how can I be sure? Why do I have to go first? I would much prefer to insist you Sort me into the same House as them later..._

The Sorting Hat laughed outright, "Well, I don't know if you'll be entirely happy with my choice then, but that all showed an awful lot of loyalty, and I have to put you somewhere, so it'll have to be..."

She tensed as she felt the hat open its mouth to yell...

...

**Reviews and constructive criticism are more than welcome.**


	20. The Politics Of Blood Is Child's Play

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Thank you to everyone who's added the story to favourites and alerts. I hope you all enjoy reading the next chapter. **

Chapter Twenty

"GRYFFINDOR!"

From the Slytherin table, Maia's heart sank as Hermione went to Gryffindor. Of course, she knew it was unlikely that the friendly muggleborn would join her in Slytherin, but she had hoped it was possible. Still, she sighed, it wasn't the end of the world. There was no rule against talking to the lions.

She swelled with pride though, when she remembered the Slytherins cheering and leaning forward to shake her hand as she became the first Slytherin of the year; another Black to add to the long line of serpents.

Dad would be pleased, it was the family House after all, and Aunt Cassiopeia would smugly inform them that she had known this would happen all along. Maia laughed, knowing that she had tried to See this herself with to avail. What meant the most to her though, was that she was in Slytherin for her loyalty. The Sorting Hat had felt her loyalty to her family and friends and had, on the basis of that, decided where she ought to go.

She had already been joined by Vincent and Gregory, and then the next Sorting sent her Daphne, who she almost ran to hug had a prefect not laid a restraining hand on her shoulder. She was certain her dreams were coming true, only to be dashed when Ernie was sent to Hufflepuff. He looked over towards the Slytherin table and smiled at them all, before running to joining the Hufflepuffs. They did look like a friendly bunch, and Ernie had always been the nicest out of the lot of their group.

At least she got Draco. The hat hollered 'SLYTHERIN' at the same moment it touched his head, but she was sure it had taken far longer to place her. Harry and Weasley both went to Gryffindor, and she felt truly sorry for Hermione. The other Slyterhin first years were two rather unfortunate-looking girls called Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson and another girl Tracy Davis, who was almost as beautiful as Daphne. The two soon fell into a deep discussion over the latest edition of Witch Weekly. A tall, seemingly reserved boy called Blaise Zabini was the last student to be Sorted, and the last new Slytherin. Looking around, Maia hoped they would all get along well enough.

She sat up straight in her chair and arranged her features to be both haughty and impassive, as Aunt Cassiopeia had taught her to behave. Now she was here, she had to act as she ought. She wasn't a child at home, she was a young witch from an important and wealthy family. She had to conduct herself with dignity, continue her friendships and display the traditions of the House of Black, and the other old families, and attest to their long line of superior magical abilities.

The old headmaster stood and clapped his hands, declaring "Nitwit, blubber, oddmint, tweak" which had all the Slytherin first years wondering if he was a little odd, but they shrugged their shoulders (elegantly, of course) and the gentlemen began to serve the ladies their food, before helping themselves.

The prefect who had held Maia back before lent across, and whispered, "I know what you're thinking, and yes, he is mad. He's absolutely brilliant as a wizard though, very powerful. He is a bit of a muggle-loving fool, though, which you ought to watch out for."

Maia blushed and was about to say something when she stopped herself. Firstly, it would be very rude to answer back to a prefect. Secondly, how did she know he hadn't had a bad experience with muggles like herself? She didn't want to upset someone on her first night. She went back to her dinner and caught Draco looking at her. He winked at her and she nodded slightly in response. They had long ago managed to communicate silently. She was sure they could find time to prank the aforementioned prefect at some point during the year.

Soon enough, the conversation turned to their families. It was Blaise Zabini who started it. He smiled, friendly enough, and asked them all about home. It seemed that his mother was a pureblood British witch who had married a number of rich wizards and travelled all over the world with them. Mongolia had been his favourite place, though now it meant he didn't know anyone before he got to school.

He turned to Daphne on his left who explained that she was a pureblood as well; her father was involved in some kind of business and had a seat on the Wizengamot. Her mother was a pureblood as well who once briefly worked in the Ministry before marrying her father. She had a little sister, who would join Hogwarts in their fifth year. Tracey, it turned out, was the only other half-blood apart from herself. Her father had been a muggleborn who was now a senior official in the Department for International Magical Cooperation while her pureblood mother wrote books that children their age did not read. They had all laughed at this, though Pansy Parkinson turned her nose up and announced that she was a pureblood and that her father was a successful businessman. This made Maia frown. Aunt Cassiopeia had made them memorise the family trees of the last four hundred years for all the pureblood families in Britain and she'd never once heard of a Parkinson family They didn't hold a seat on the Wizengamot like her family did, or Draco's, or any of the others. She wondered perhaps if they were an American pureblood family who had emigrated.

Either way, Daphne had told her that she ought to keep her opinions to herself if they were so crudely expressed. It was a sign that one had true wealth and social standing when one didn't need to flaunt it to remind everyone of the fact. If you really mattered, everyone already knew.

That was certainly the case with Draco, who went next and politely informed them that his mother had been a model, who married his father not long after they left Hogwarts. He didn't even bother to mention that he was a pureblood. The moment he mentioned his surname Parkinson threw him what she, presumably, thought was a charming smile. He looked at her as if she was deluded and gestured to Maia, "And this is my dearest cousin, Maia Violetta Black. My mother was a Black before she married my father."

"And what does your father do, Maia?" Asked Parkinson in a previously unheard tone of politeness, which was clearly for Draco's benefit and not hers. "I hear the Black family are a very political one."

"That's true but my father used to work in finance. He handed over most of the control of the businesses just before I was born. My parents were quite old when they had me, so I'm something of a miracle."

Parkinson simpered, "How lovely." She was clearly assuming that Maia was a pureblood by virtue of her relationship to Draco, and her surname. Maia fought the urge to roll her eyes. She was a perfectly capable _half blood _witch, and she was a Seer, which she highly doubted anyone else in their class would be.

"It must be so splendid," continued Parkinson, "to come from such a well-learned magical family. I hear the Black family library is almost unparalleled. Did you mother teach you much magic before you came?"

Maia wondered for a moment how to respond, but family mattered and she wasn't going to pretend that her mother was somehow less because she was a muggle. Besides, Draco and the others would shoot the stupid girl down if she tried anything. And for all the girl's claims, when it boiled down the name of Parkinson was nothing compared to the name Black, even on a half blood.

"No, my mother is a muggle." She said simply, looking at Parkinson with a delicately arched eyebrow and daring her to say something.

The nearby prefect chocked on his pumpkin juice.

"Oh, well love does conquer all. Your father must have loved her very much. When did he tell her he was a wizard?" said Parkinson, looking more at Draco than Maia. Her mouth had formed a thin line, making her look like a cross between a pug and a toad.

The prefect breathed a small sigh of relief.

"Actually, he never did." She watched as Parkinson frowned, "He's a Squib. She only found out about magic after they had me."

Parkinson blanched, "Goodness, and you're a witch?"

"Evidently." Drawled Draco with a smirk. He understood perfectly that Maia felt the need to be loyal to her family, even her parents, but he really wondered why she was saying all of this when she could easily pass for a pureblood. Well, of the two of them, she had always been the most headstrong. It had been her idea to switch all of Aunt Irma's copies of Witch Weekly with muggle newspapers, after all.

The prefect chocked on a mouthful of food again and his friend had to slap him on his back. He'd barely worn the badge for a few hours and he was going to have a blood-purity riot on his hands, for a girl with the purest name and yet the most dubious blood-status. So much for _Always Pure_, he thought, wishing he had turned the badge down.

"Doesn't that bother you?" She asked, looking from Draco to Maia again.

"No," snapped Maia, tossing her hair, "my father is one of the most successful financiers of his generation, my mother one of its greatest philanthropists. I am a recognised daughter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, which can trace its ancestry back to the founding of the Wizengamot, when records began. We hold a seat to this day. We have produced a headmaster of Hogwarts school, four Chief Healers of St Mungos, seven Chief Wizards of the Wizengamot and ten Ministers for Magic, among so many other achievements that were I to list them I would be in danger of boasting. I feel I have little to be _bothered_ about regarding my magical lineage."

"And it doesn't _bother_ me in the slightest. Maia is my cousin, and a powerful witch. Whilst blood-status is important, so is heritage and Maia is part of that. So if anyone has a problem with her, then they should know that she has the support of the House of Malfoy as well as the House of Black. My own mother gave Maia her first wand."

To this Daphne added coldly, "And the House of Greengrass."

Vincent and Gregory nodded menacingly, though couldn't contribute verbally as their mouths were full of food.

Parkinson paled and went silent, although she and Bulstrode shared a 'significant' look.

Having finally regained his composure and free use of his airways, the prefect leant over and said, "While Slytherin House is famed for its awareness of the importance of blood purity, and will always continue to do so, it is fully open to any magical brethren and relatives. While we always promote and encourage the traditions of our forbearers, we will not tolerate snide remarks unbecoming to a Slytherin. We are a House and we are loyal to each other. We certainly don't fight among each other in public. I will remove points if I hear this discussion again."

...

After dinner was finished, the first years were led away by their prefects. They followed them out of the hallway, down a narrow and twisted staircase and into the dungeons. The older students either went straight to their dorms or started to relax in the Common Room. The Common Room itself was large, with candles hanging from racks in the ceiling and the walls were dark, mahogany wood. The Slytherin banner hung from the main wall, with two large, stained glass windows framing it on either side. The light shone through dimly, casting a faintly green tinge to the rest of the room. Maia wasn't sure, but the light seemed to lap like waves against the windows and it then occurred to her that they were under the lake. A dark shadow passed in front of the glass, and she wondered if it were the Giant Squid Mr. Hagrid had told them about.

There were large mahogany desks placed around the room and large, brown leather armchairs and sofas, often found clustered around the various fireplaces. Bookcases filled the surrounding walls, which were also adorned with tapestries detailing notable alumni and the family crests and mottos of prominent Slytherin families. Crystal figurines and models of the planets were clustered upon the mantelpieces. All in all, the common room had an air of ancient and imposing luxury.

The prefects directed them to sit and stand in the farthest corner of the common room, beneath the crest of the Gaunt family.

The prefect who had told them off earlier started to speak.

"Good evening, my name is Bertram Nott and this is Gemma Farley. We are the fifth year prefects for Slytherin House. You will recognise the other prefects in this House by their badges and we currently house the Head Boy, Coeus Blishwick. If you have any problems, you should come to us and, if necessary and appropriate, we will provide assistance. Do not come to us if you feel sick, are homesick, can't find your quill or have any problem that falls into the category of pathetic. Slytherin students are supposedly resourceful and we expect you to act as such. Moreover, never go to Professor Snape unless the matter is truly urgent. He will care even less than us."

"Slytherin House prides itself on tradition. However, we will not tolerate petty squabbles within the common room or the wider school over whether or not so and so's great great great grandmother married the local muggle shopkeeper. They're dead and none of us care. Our traditions include dignity, poise and formality. These are as important as blood. What we can do most to show that our traditions and values are correct is to excel and prove muggle-lovers like the Weasleys wrong. We expect the highest standards of behaviour and academic achievement from all our students at all times. Slytherin House has produced some of the finest witches and wizards throughout history, including Merlin, Elizabeth Burke and our current Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. _You_ are not about to ruin this reputation in the course of a single year."

He nodded to Gemma, who continued, "For those of you who haven't worked it out yet, we're currently below the lake so don't go complaining that your owl can't deliver letters. You can get letters from mummykins at breakfast and other mealtimes. Grow up and deal with it. The current password the wall wants is Hades, God of the underworld. That's the last time I'm telling you so don't forget it. The wall takes a theme each year, this year it's Greek gods. When it changes the password, it will come up with a riddle for you to solve to work out the new one. You're supposed to use your cunning and intelligence to work it out. People may or may not choose to tell you once they have worked the new one out. Deal with that too. It's called standing on your own two feet."

"Slytherin House is a House of nobility and so we don't throw all our students in dorms together like the tree-hugging Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. You will be sharing with no more than two other people."

She pulled out a sheet of parchment and tapped it with her wand,

"Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini will be sharing a room in the boy's wing.

Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle will be sharing as well.

Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode will be sharing a room in the girl's wing.

Maia Black, Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis will be sharing as well."

She pointed to two heavy looking mahogany doors on either side of the room, "That," she said, "is the entrance to the boys' wing." She pointed to the opposite door, "and that is the way to the girls'. Your names are on the door, your possessions are there and any familiars. Your owls are in the owlry. You will be issued with timetable tomorrow morning. Behave yourselves at all times. You are dismissed."

Looking nervously at each other, the first years all slipped off towards their respective rooms, though Draco pulled Maia aside and made him promise her to tell him the moment Parkinson was rude. He swore he would deal with it for her. Maia, secretly relieved that she wasn't sharing with Parkinson, followed Daphne and Tracey to their room. She was pleased to find that there were three sets of keys. No one else could get into their rooms apart from the house elves. Maia had the furthest bed on the left. It was a large, mahogany double bed with green velvet sheets with silver trimmings and matching hangings. The stone flagged floor was covered in a thick green rug. The room was impressively large; each bed had a large ebony wardrobe next to it and a desk on the opposite wall. They walked through and adjoining door to find a bathroom with a walk-in shower, a full length mirror and three dressing tables. Slytherin students were clearly expected to take pride in their appearance.

The three girls set to unpacking, doing their utmost to make it feel like home. The other two girls didn't visit them. Maia hung her star chart on the wall, which made Daphne laugh. When Tracey asked why, she explained that all the Black family had an unhealthy interest in Astrology. Maia shrugged and started to pile Aunt Cassiopeia's 'extra' books on her desk. Luckily, she then realised that there was a small bookcase in the corner next to Tracey's bed (Daphne was in the middle) which she could use. Tracey didn't mind and Maia promised both girls they could borrow them any time that they wanted.

Soon, the room was filled with their things and they didn't feel quite so out-of-place. Askella was curled up on Maia's lap as they sat on their beds, ate their way through Trixie's box of goodies and chatted happily. Tracey was lovely, a little stuck-up, but then Maia knew she and Daphne were just as bad, if not worse. She was very interested in make-up and celebrities, but she didn't seem to mind that Maia wasn't. She wasn't a fan of cat hair though, and Maia promised to try and keep Askella to her side of the room as much as possible. While the other two went to try out new hair styles (and were very disappointed when Maia declined as they both assured her she had beautiful, thick long hair that they would love to play with) Maia sat at her desk and pulled out her quill and parchment. She would get up early and go to the owlry in the morning to send it, hoping that if she was early she wouldn't get lost and would miss the inevitable rush on the school owls.

_Dear Mum, Dad, Aunt Cassiopeia and Trixie,_

_Thank you so much for the food and the cake, it was all lovely and my roommates and I really enjoyed and appreciated them. They asked me to say thank you as well._

_I won't keep you in suspense much longer. I've been sorted into Slytherin. I hope you are all pleased with me. The Sorting Hat seriously considered Ravenclaw but, apparently, my familial loyalty meant that Slytherin was the best fit for me. I'm really happy here. My roommates are Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis. So far, we're getting along well. I'm also in the same House as Draco, Gregory and Vincent. Ernie was sorted into Hufflepuff. I haven't spoken to him yet but I hope he's happy as well. I will miss him, but we get our timetables tomorrow morning and hopefully we will have lots of lessons together. _

_Our Common Room is wonderful, very spacious with plenty of armchairs. It is very comfortable and there is no danger of our standards being allowed to drop. I even have a double bed and my own desk. There is a bookcase for the extra books Aunt Cassiopeia packed. I was pleased when I opened the trunk to find that I guessed correctly which Extension Charm you used to fit them all in. My star chart is on the wall already. I'm hoping to practice my Tarot reading tomorrow, if can find a willing volunteer or else poor Draco will once again have to be told that he's going to grow up to be rich, marry a suitable girl and have a good Ministry position. He's always disappointed that he won't captain England to the Quidditch World Cup but it just isn't going to happen!_

_Askella is settling in well and is such a beautiful pet. Thank you again for giving her to me, dad._

_I love you all and I will do my best to work hard and make you proud. Please give my regards to Aunt Narcissa and Uncle Lucius, as I'm sure they will Floo-call you sooner than I will write to them. _

_Your obedient and loving daughter,_

_Maia Violetta Black._

_p.s. I know I promised that you would have an owl by the time you sat down for your breakfast tea, but as Aunt Cassiopeia will remember, the Slytherin Common Room and dormitories are in the dungeons and under the lake, so I won't be able to post this until the morning. I am sorry, and I hope that this will reach you by elevenses. _

...


	21. Any Divide Can Be Crossed

**I still don't own Harry Potter...**

**Thank you for all the reviews, happy reading!**

Chapter Twenty One

The next morning Maia woke early, pulled on her school robes and tied her hair into a long braid. Then, picking up her letter, she crept to the door so that she wouldn't wake the others and made her way to the owlry. As she wandered the quiet passageways, she was truly grateful to Aunt Cassiopeia for making her learn the outline of the school. She took a few wrong turns but, overall, had no trouble finding her way. She saw Peeves on her way back, but ducked into an empty classroom and, thankfully, missed him by the skin on her teeth. As a result, she was one of the first students in the Great Hall that morning, yet alone any of the first years. She noticed that the Gryffindor students seemed to be the last to arrive of everyone, looking very flustered. She frowned and assumed they had all got lost. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had all been escorted by prefects. The Slytherin first years arrived in pairs and sat together around Maia. Draco and Blaise seemed to be getting along well; on Blaise's advice, it seemed that Draco had decided to slick his hair back. Maia wasn't sure what she thought of it, but they both seemed satisfied.

Daphne and Tracy smiled when they found her but told her off for not leaving a note. However, they quickly forgave her when another basket of cakes arrived from her mother, along with a long letter from both her parents detailing how much they missed her already and wanting to know why she hadn't written yet. Maia couldn't help but laugh, and hoped she'd chosen a fast owl. The others laughed as well. A further package for Draco arrived soon after. When Maia looked over to catch a glimpse of Hermione, she was buried in a book, but she caught Weasley and Harry giving her and Draco both filthy looks.

Suddenly, she felt someone tap her on her shoulder. She spun round and threw her arms around Ernie.

"Ernie!" she cried, before suddenly remembering that this was a public place and she was supposed to be behaving like a young lady. She sat down quickly and invited him to join them, the others skirted alone and Draco smirked at her.

"Well, Maia's clearly missed me, how are the rest of you getting along?" He said, looking around at them all. His yellow uniform stuck out oddly in the sea of green.

"We're getting along fine." Said Daphne with a polite smile.

"Hard times on getting sorted into Hufflepuff though, my father would kill me." Said Draco, "How did your parents take the news?"

Ernie shrugged, "My family are a mixed bunch, I mean, we're usually Ravenclaw or Slytherin but we've had a few Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs in the past so they took it fairly well."

"Hmmm," mused Draco, not sounding convinced, "I still think I'd leave."

"Draco! Don't be so rude. The Sorting Hat thought about putting me in Hufflepuff as well. Actually, it wanted to put me in all of them. Either way, Hufflepuff's not all that bad."

At that moment, Parkinson sat down to join them, looking as sour faced. "Well you _would_ say that, Black."

"What are you trying to say, _Parkinson_?" Snapped Draco. He wasn't used to people ignoring his friendly advice but it had been happening a lot since he boarded the train. Well, at least Vincent and Gregory always did as they were told...

"Nothing, nothing at all." She said, looking at Ernie coldly.

Ernie looked over to the Hufflepuff table, "I ought to go, Professor Sprout is giving out timetables." He stood up and jogged back to the badgers.

Daphne leant over to Maia, "Did the Hat really try and put you in Hufflepuff or are you just trying to make poor Ernie feel better? It took an awful long time to Sort you, you know."

"How long did it take?"

"Almost five minutes!"

Maia swallowed, that was a long time. "Not really, it said that I seemed like a nice enough person who might get along well with the badgers. It really couldn't choose. It said I had the brains for Ravenclaw, the nerve for Gryffindor but chose Slytherin because it said I respected traditions and familial loyalty and all that most of all."

They heard footsteps rapping on the stone floor and looked up to see Professor Snape standing behind Tracey. He silently handed out their timetables. "Your first class with me is on Friday in the dungeons. You now have History of Magic. I will escort you this once, and only this once. Follow. Now." With that he turned on his heel as the first years quickly grabbed their bags and downed their tea before running after him.

Maia felt something sharp jab her in the back and turned round to see Parkinson's unnaturally bony finger pointing at her.

"It figures." She spat.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Well, it just shows that you don't really belong here, _mudblood._" she hissed. Maia looked for a second as though she'd been slapped, but then she glared at Parkinson with nothing more than disdain.

"Could you hold your tongue, Parkinson?" she replied, "I was raised in a polite household. We didn't spout filth so early in the morning."

She looked around, but nobody else seemed to have noticed their altercation and she rather preferred it that way. She didn't want Draco to start a blood feud on their first day. She hurried quicker to walk behind Professor Snape and only turned round to see Parkinson looking rather put out that her snide comments weren't having the desired effect.

...

Maia's classes that day went well, Aunt Cassiopeia had covered most of the material already and much of the lessons that day were simply lectures on behaviour. She and her cousins all shared knowing looks, well aware that they had had the 'correct public behaviour' drilled into them long ago. She avoided Parkinson and sat by Draco most of the time.

Overall, her first week went quickly. She and her two room mates got on well enough, and Askella was very good company when they started to gossip. She had plenty of books to read and wrote and received many letters from home, so many that it was even hard to feel homesick.

She had had a few lessons with the Ravenclaws, and found them to be a little dull. She was pleased that she hadn't ended up there; she would have become _too _bookish. The Hufflepuffs were all very nice, and it meant she got to see Ernie. Thus far, she had not had any lessons with the Gryffindors, so she was looking forward to Potions when she got to see Hermione again.

...

That Friday, most of the Gryffindors were already lined up outside of the potions classroom when the Slytherins arrived, though Maia noted that Weasley and Harry were conspicuous by their absence. They filed in the room and Maia saw Hermione rush to the front of the classroom. Draco gestured for her to join Blaise and himself, but she shook her head and went to sit next to Hermione who was still alone. "Trust me, I'll explain later." She mouthed. Draco looked confused but nodded slowly.

Maia and Hermione smiled at each other quickly when there was suddenly a loud crash behind them and three boys, Weasley, Harry, and a round-faced boy she recognised as Neville Longbottom, fell through the door. They all looked very flustered and out of breath.

"Sorry we're late-"

Snape cut the red-headed boy off, "I don't care, you're still late. Three points from Gryffindor and if you don't take a seat quickly it'll be three points each."

The boys stumbled to their places.

Professor Snape glanced around the room, noting Draco's smile and raising an eyebrow at the young Black girl's choice of partner. Snape then gave the latecomers another angry look and proceeded to lecture the class on the delicate art of potion making. Hermione was listening to him as if gold was flowing from his tongue, while Maia looked up at him with polite attention, making notes of particular phrases she liked. She gained a new favourite word: 'dunderhead'.

His eyes ran over the classroom and settled on Harry, "Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Maia flinched as Hermione's hand shot in the air so quickly. She thought she was about to get a black eye. Harry, however, opened his mouth in horror then replied, "I don't know, sir."

Snape turned to Weasley. "Very well, Weasley, where would you look if I asked you to find me a Bezoar?" Weasley gulped as Professor Snape rolled his eyes,

"Longbottom, what is the difference between Monkshead and Wolfsbane?" Snape's voice grew colder each time he questioned one of the late-comers.

Longbottom began to quiver. Next to Maia, Hermione was practically trying to climb on her chair to get a response. When Maia turned to see the angry glint in Harry's eye, she sensed a storm was about to break and made sure she was sat up straight and had her ankles crossed properly. She would weather this like a true Black and a true Slytherin, and not incur the wrath of her Head of House. Decorum at all times, as Aunt Cassiopeia would say.

"None of us seem to know, sir, but I think Hermione might."

Now there was a clear reason that Harry Potter was not a Slytherin, thought Maia: A total disregard for his own welfare.

"Two points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter. Did you think you wouldn't open a book before you got here, Potter? You can't get by in this room on your fame alone."

Maia was a little shocked by the harshness of Snape's tone, and Potter's angry glare.

Snape turned and surveyed the room, taking note of Hermione's bouncing and waving, and turned to Maia next to her. "Miss Black, perhaps you could enlighten our resident Gryffindors?" She felt Snape's gaze pierce her and sat up a little straighter again.

"Yes, sir." She said clearly, her cut-glass vowels ringing, "Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it's known as a draught of living death. A Bezaor is found in the stomach of a goat and will cure you of most poisons. There is no difference between Monkshood and Wolfbane, they're the same thing."

Snape nodded curtly, "Three points for Slytherin."

"Thank you, sir."

Maia turned to Draco and smiled. He looked like a cat who'd got the cream and found out that Christmas had come early. Not only had he seen Weasley humiliated, Slytherin had got extra points on the first day of term. Blaise, Tracey and Daphne all seemed very pleased as well. Only Parkinson scowled, while Bulstrode mouthed, "Show off." nastily.

Hermione slumped back in her seat, disappointed, while Snape barked at them to copy the answers down. She could hear Weasley whispering to Potter at the back and decided he annoyed her; she actually wanted to learn something from Professor Snape and they were a distraction. A quick glance at Hermione showed her that she was not alone in her sentiments.

The class seemed to be going rather well. She and Hermione didn't talk much as they brewed the potion that had been set, but it was the best in the class and Professor Snape awarded them a point each. They were just putting it into a vial when the there was a loud explosion that sent most of the class ducking for cover. Poor Longbottom, who was bursting with boils, actually began to whimper. Snape snatched their vial of potion from them and placed it on his desk, while rushing over to Vanish the smoke and overflowing potion.

He set the class back to work - Weasley and Potter had to start again with only twenty minutes to go - while Maia and Hermione were asked to escort Longbottom to the hospital wing since they were the only ones who had successfully completed their own potion. She could hear Weasley complaining loudly and Draco sent her a sympathetic look for having to carry the blubbering Longbottom, whilst trying to stifle his own laughter.

She and Hermione put one of Longbottom's arms on either side of their shoulders and began to drag him along the corridor. It was rather slow going as neither Hermione nor Maia were particularly large girls and Longbottom was no lightweight.

Suddenly, Hermione stopped. "Do we even know where the hospital wing is?"

Longbottom groaned and Maia paused as well, "Yes, my aunt taught me the general layout of the school. And I have an idea, let go of him."

They both stepped back and Longbottom dropped to the floor. "Sorry Longbottom," she said, before rolling back her sleeves and flicking her wand, "Wingardium Leviosa"

Longbottom floated into the air and Maia and Hermione walked behind him.

"Wow, that really clever!" gushed Hermione, "I saw that spell in the Standard Book of Spells Grade 1, but haven't tried it yet."

"Well, I'm sure we'll do it in class soon. I'd say try it now, but I don't think Longbottom wants to be your guinea pig."

Longbottom made a groan that sounded rather like, 'no, please no' and both Hermione and Maia laughed.

"I am sorry for stealing your thunder earlier, I know you knew the answers but Professor Snape doesn't like Gryffindor very much and he really hates it when people don't sit still."

"That's ok, we still got a point for our potion. It is rather unfair how he plays favourites though."

Maia shrugged, "The other heads do it as well, they just aren't so obvious about it. Anyway, how are you getting on in Gryffindor? Or are you scared to tell me now that I'm an evil Slytherin?"

Hermione looked a little downcast, "I wish I could be in Slytherin, or anywhere else at all. I'm sharing with the other two girls and they're both from magical families. They keep talking about Quidditch players I don't know about, and they keep gushing about boys and make up. They laughed at my hair this morning and barely spoke to me last night. Then the other boys were laughing at me this morning for reading at the breakfast table."

Maia looked over, genuinely concerned, "I am sorry, that's very ill-mannered of them. They should at least explain things to you, it's not your _fault_ that you were raised by muggles."

Hermione snorted, cheering up at Maia's comment, "You are old-fashioned you know. You curtsey and I haven't heard anyone ever say ill-mannered, except for in a costume drama!"

Maia frowned, "What's a costume drama?"

"It's a show on television, where people dress up and act out things from history. Don't you have a TV?"

"Oh, we did for a while, but then my Aunt Cassiopeia came to stay for a few months and it scared her so she blew it up in the garden." Maia laughed at the memory, the funniest part being the fact that Aunt Cassiopeia was really terrified that muggles were spying on her, "It was my aunt who you have to blame for making me so old fashioned, she made me have etiquette lessons, and elocution lessons. I even had to learn to dance and paint and play the piano in order to be 'accomplished'."

Hermione laughed, and laughed even harder when she realised Maia wasn't making it up.

By now, they were outside the hospital wing and handed Longbottom over to the care of Madam Pomfrey. Maia looked at her watch, "The bell will go any second, shall we head down to lunch?"

Hermione nodded, "I suppose. I hope Ronald Weasley isn't too mean."

She looked so dejected at the thought of eating with her fellow Gryffindors that Maia felt compelled to add, "You know, I quite like you. We could take some food and eat it on the grounds, or I could just sit at the Gryffindor table with you. My cousins will forgive me for leaving them for one day, maybe you could join us another time?"

Though she secretly knew that it was unlikely a muggleborn would ever be welcome and she did feel a little annoyed at the fact, but then, it was a family thing, really, a tradition.

Hermione looked at the rain outside the window, "I like you too. Will you be my friend and would you like to join me for lunch?"

Maia held out her arm and the two linked together, "Hermione Granger, it would be an honour." She said, accentuating her rather formal manners even further so Hermione laughed.

Poor girl, Maia knew what it was like to have people be mean and she wasn't going to let the poor muggleborn be terrorised out of Hogwarts on her first day. Her parents might be muggles, but Hermione was a witch and one of them as well. People complained about muggleborns never really understanding the wizarding world, but then how could they, if nobody ever explained it to them? Did Hermione even know what Quidditch was?

She leaned over conspiratorially, "You know, I don't think I really like a certain Ronald Weasley." She whispered.

And it was true, she expected snide comments in Slytherin, they did things in a cloak and dagger way, but at least she had Draco and the others even if Parkinson and her sidekick were awful. Hermione, in House which prized loyalty, was being isolated from the outset. Had none of those children ever been taught manners?

Hermione leant across and answered, "Neither do I."

...


	22. The Lies And Sorrow Spread Ever Further

**No, I still don't own Harry Potter. **

**Sorry for the slighter longer wait that usual, but here you go! **

Chapter Twenty Two

"What are you doing here, Black?" snapped Weasley, the moment she sat down.

Maia smiled at him, "Well, after we took Longbottom to Madam Pomfrey, who said he'll be fine and I'm sure he be pleased to know you asked after him, Hermione asked me if I would like to join her for lunch and, as you've noticed, I accepted her invitation."

Maia noticed that she was getting dark looks from some of the other Gryffindors, but she raised her chin slightly and poured Hermione's pumpkin juice and then filled her own goblet.

"Right." Said Weasley, "I'll believe that when I someone breaks into Gringotts."

"Actually," said Hermione primly, "someone has broken into Gringotts, it was in the Prophet this morning."

Maia couldn't keep the smug look off her face.

Ron spluttered while Harry asked if he could read the article. It didn't take long for him to claim that he had been in Gringotts the day that it had been robbed. He even claimed that he had visited the vault in question with the Gamekeeper Hagrid, which Maia doubted very much to be true but simply smiled politely at him. She supposed he wanted to make sure he stayed popular and interesting to his housemates, or perhaps be known as someone other than the Boy-Who-Lived. Still, she thought, there were more convincing ways to go about it. Weasley, presumably wanting to cement his advantageous friendship, listened to him was rapt attention. Those Weasleys were awful creatures.

While Ron and Harry continued to discuss Gringotts, Maia started talking to Hermione again, and began explaining the rules of Quidditch to her, until Ron suddenly turned round and cut her off, "You really think the Arrows are the best team? Or have you just started supporting them since they won the league last season? Isn't that what people like you do?"

Maia jerked her chin forwards, "Actually, I've supported them since I was seven years old, they were the first team I ever saw play. Uncle Lucius took Draco and I, they played the Canons who were laughable."

The tips on Ron's ears flushed red, "I happen to support the Canons, _actually_."

"Really, why?" She arched an eyebrow, wondering if this was the Weasley sense of humour.

"They're the best team." He declared stoutly, daring her to contradict him.

Maia cast him a pitiful look, "Yes, well," she said, turning back to Hermione, "Draco supports to Wasps, which I don't understand either, but Uncle Lucius tries to get us tickets to most games-"

"Oh yes, and I'm sure _dear _Uncle Lucius and _darling_ Draco are just wonderful company."

"I happen to think they are, actually."

Harry coughed, "They are her family, you know. Malfoy might not be that bad, perhaps we all got off on the wrong foot."

"Besides," added Hermione primly, "you're complaining about her relatives now, not her. I don't know why she's being civil to you. You haven't said a civil word since she sat down."

"Oh shut up, Granger, no one cares what you think. And Harry, it's not possible to get off on the _right_ foot with families like the Blacks and the Malfoys, they're all in Slytherin, the lot of them and they're all nasty pieces of work." He glared at her, and Maia noted that a number of other Gryffindors seemed to be nodding along with him.

Maia pursed her lips, "Weasley, you make a great deal of fuss about being on the 'right side', but might I point out that you're the only one of the two of us who _has ever_ bought up blood status and the only one of us who has ever raised their voice."

"And Maia is my guest here, I won't let you be rude to her." Snapped Hermione waspishly.

"Yeah, well she's only being nice now. Just wait until she finds out you're muggleborn."

Maia smirked in what she knew to be a very Draco-esque manner, "I already knew that Hermione was a muggleborn."

Ron flushed. He didn't know what to say to that. Unsurprisingly, it was another red-head – one of the twins - who cut in, "It doesn't change the fact that half your family is in Azkaban for supporting You-Know-Who though, does it?"

"Just because some of my relatives chose to support the Dark Lord, does not mean that I am somehow evil."

Harry was looking at her oddly and tilted his head, "Is it true then, what Ron said, that your family supported Voldemort? Did your parents support him?"

Maia, along everyone else, flinched at the name.

Ron recovered first and nodded quickly, "That's what I told you and she doesn't deny it. She called him the Dark Lord, only Dark families use that name."

Maia flushed scarlet, she had never heard a different name for him outside of her own home. "I've put up with quite enough. Hermione, thank you for inviting me. It's such a shame that it didn't go better. I'll sit with you next time we have a class together, but I'm not going to be accused of being a Death Eater over the dining table."

She stood up stiffly, curtseyed and walked away with her nose in the air, but not before Weasley and an Irish boy called 'good riddance' after her. She was on the verge of tears when she sat back with the Slytherins. Draco instantly started interrogating her about sitting with filthy Gryffindors before Daphne shook him off with an imperious wave of her hand and plied Maia with tea to cheer her up. Tracey promised to do her hair beautifully for the next day if she smiled again and Maia managed to muster up a weak grin to satisfy them both. She collected herself together and got through the rest of her day with the poise that was expected of her.

She was thankful to collapse into one of the armchairs that evening though, after the rest of her classes and finishing her homework in the library, where she had been joined by a very apologetic Hermione. She warmed her hands over the fire, before kicking off her shoes, leaning back, and smiling as Askella hopped into her lap and fell asleep as she stroked her.

Maia looked around at the Common Room and smiled, it was so lovely down here. Most of the Slytherins came from the stricter, older families and so conducted themselves very formally and coldly whilst walking around the school and in the presence of adults. They knew what was expected of them. However, here, in the Common Room, they were finally alone and unsupervised. Top bottoms were undone, shirts were untucked, robes were cast aside, stiff postures were shaken away as the students threw themselves into comfy chairs and relaxed with their friends. Draco lounged opposite her, his legs kicked out over the floor, and heaved a sigh of relief.

"That wasn't a bad first week. You did very well in Potions, but why on earth did you sit with that Granger girl? And again at lunch? You did notice she's a Gryffindor, and I've heard she's a mudblood."

Maia rolled her eyes, "Don't be do vulgar, Draco. I know she's _muggleborn_, but she's very smart. She's memorised all the textbooks already by the sounds of it. I'd be a fool not to try and get along with her, the teachers are all going to love her, and I don't intend to be disadvantaged by that."

Draco let out a laugh that sounded like a bark, and she could see Daphne and Tracey smirking at each other as well, "You are, dear cousin, the best Slytherin of us all. Very cunning, and the old fool with love you for it too. The Black and the _muggleborn_."

"You know, I also happen to like her. She's very friendly."

Draco shook his head, "You've always been soft Maia."

"You do remember I'm a half blood, cousin, and my mother, who sends you as many biscuits as she sends me, is a muggle?"

Draco sighed, "Yes, but I like your mother for her own merit. And besides, you're both family so I'm stuck with you aren't I? You're exceptions that prove the rule." He threw his arms up dramatically and Maia threw a pillow at him. He threw it back and she tucked it behind her head to get more comfortable. "They weren't rude to you at lunch, were they?" He said, frowning and looking concerned.

"Rude? They were vile! Practically said I was a Death Eater in training! On reflection, I should have told them about my family. That would have wiped the smirk off of their faces."

Daphne laughed, and Draco winked at her at the thought of her being a Death Eater. Only he knew she had Bellatrix Lestrange's old wand. Tracey noted the look that passed between them, but made no comment and instead pulled a romance novel out of her satchel. Before long, the quartet were joined by Blaise, Vincent and Gregory and passed the evening chatting about the rest of their year group and playing exploding snap.

...

The next few weeks passed her by well enough. Daphne and Tracey did do her hair in a lovely French braid the next morning, and then at breakfast she received more letters from her mother and father, while Aunt Cassiopeia and Aunt Narcissa wrote as well to once again congratulate her on making Slytherin.

She, Daphne and Draco continued to be inseparable, although Blaise and Tracey quickly became indispensible additions to their group. Vincent and Gregory followed them around like two over-sized shadows, but they had their uses from time to time and annoyed her less now they were all in Hogwarts because they reminded her of home and because she knew Slytherins had to stick together. Maia also spent more time with Hermione Granger, as they often did their homework and wider reading together in the library after school. Sometimes the others joined them although they weren't as fond as the Gryffindor girl as she was. Still, they didn't begrudge her another friend (especially as they approved of at least of half Maia's rational behind the friendship) and they all relaxed in the Slytherin Common Room each evening.

Weasley lived up to his family's reputation for stupidity and was at the bottom of most of their shared classes, though was marginally better than Longbottom. Maia decided that Harry Potter seemed fairly intelligent, but he was being held back by his poor company. There was nothing she could do about it though. As long as Weasley couldn't stand her, there was no way Harry would speak to her. He and Weasley went everywhere together. She wasn't inclined to like Harry anyway if he was stupid enough to take everything the Weasel said at face value.

Parkinson continued to spout vile words at her whenever Maia was apart from the others. At first they were easy to shrug off, but they did start to upset her after a while. However, she managed to avoid her for most of the weekends, and she and Hermione had a lovely picnic by the black lake on Sunday afternoon after the end of their second week. Whenever Parkinson was cruel, Maia tried to focus on something good that was happening around her.

...

Narcissa Malfoy stiffened slightly as she looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. Today would have been Bellatrix's birthday. Of course, it still was Bellatrix's birthday, but it wasn't as if she would be aware of that fact. She shuddered, remembering her own brief time in Azkaban. She could never think of her sister now without a chill running down her spine. That had been a horrible day, and to think that just the day after she had found out that yet another Black had died. Annie. That poor little girl would have been the same age as Draco and Maia. Yet she had died, killed by Death Eaters, just because her father, her Death Eater father, had been stupid enough not to tell them, his family, but had left her with the McKinnons.

The whole war had been so stupid, so very, very stupid.

Blood mattered, but it didn't matter so much that baby girls should be murdered in their cribs.

Blood mattered, but it didn't matter so much that Bellatrix would never see a Dementor-free sky again.

Blood mattered, but it didn't matter so much that her father would turn his wand on himself and her mother would hide in a foreign castle for the rest of her life.

A letter from her mother, Druella Black, lay discarded on the table in front of her. She sent her congratulations that Draco was doing well in school. He was, according to her mother 'a credit to his blood'. Of course, she had made no mention of Maia and no doubt disapproved of her own indulgence of her, but Narcissa had long ago stopped needing her mother's approval. Maia Black was a delightful girl, who was a credit to her family, regardless of her blood, and who looked so remarkably like her sisters that she couldn't possibly cast the child off.

She turned and saw Lucius enter the room.

"A sickle for your thoughts, dearest?" He said, placing a cup of Early Grey tea on the table next to the letter.

"Oh, I'm just thinking about family."

"I know."

"It's Bellatrix's birthday."

"I remembered." He paused and nodded at the tea, "I'm not very good with feelings, but I did bring you tea."

She took a delicate sip, "I love you." She whispered.

He bent over and kissed her hairline, "And I you, dearest."

She paused, wondering what to say. "Our family is very small, is it not?"

Lucius frowned slightly, "I thought that was what we wanted. Families like ours are always small, but if you wanted..."

A small smile passed over her face, "Oh no, my love, I was not thinking of babies. I was simply thinking that so much of our family is gone."

"We will always be together though, you, Draco and I."

She nodded, "And Maia and her family."

Lucius stiffened slightly before nodding.

"There should have been another little girl for Draco to play with."

Lucius nodded, "He had plenty of playmates, he could have chosen Daphne Greengrass, or even one of his boy cousins to make such a friend of, he never did need to be so close to Maia, she is not quite the same as him."

Narcissa tossed her hair, "There is nothing wrong with dear Maia, that is not what I meant either. I meant that there should have been another Black cousin, a little girl, the same age as Draco and Maia."

Lucius Malfoy rested his hand on his wife's shoulder, "I don't understand, dearest."

"I never told you..."

"You never told me what? You have always told me everything, have you not?" He tone was not accusing, but it was hurt. There had never been any secrets in their marriage, well, Narcissa had never kept any secrets at all and he had kept very few.

"Sirius Black had a daughter by Marlene McKinnon." She turned up to see her husband's shocked expression. She continued, "Yet he left her with the McKinnons, and Elena McKinnon, Marlene's sister, went into hiding with her after the attack on the McKinnon family."

Lucius' frown deepened, "I thought they were all killed?" He paused and stroked his chin, "I know they were all killed. I was there."

Narcissa reached up and clutched her husband's hand in her own, suddenly very cold. "I know." She shook her head, "But that was a long time ago, we don't need to talk about it."

He nodded, "I thought we killed them all, but then, there were so many of them, and so many of us..."

Narcissa shuddered delicately, "Please, my love, I don't... I don't want to know."

He nodded and fell silent. She shook herself, trying not to imagine the man she loved murdering fellow witches and wizards, casting Unforgiveable after Unforgiveable. That war had torn her family apart. It had destroyed them as people. He sister, her father, her husband, her cousins...

Lucius continued again, "I do not remember a baby, perhaps they did get away?"

Narcissa nodded, "They did, they were not found until after the Dark Lord fell. Elena McKinnon must have been careless, because they were killed by Death Eaters trying to hunt down signs of where _he_ might have been." Narcissa stifled a sob, "I could never bring myself to tell you... I didn't want... I didn't want to have to ask..."

Lucius gripped her shoulder tighter, "It wasn't me, my love, I swear it wasn't me. I never went looking for the Dark Lord after he fell. He was too dangerous, he was too violent, he would have happily allowed you or Draco to be hurt for his cause. I was glad when he fell. I never looked for him and I would never have hurt a child." He paused, "It is not much to say, but I never did hurt a child. They always started to look like Draco."

Narcissa brushed her thin fingers under her eyes, "I know that, my love. I am just so glad to hear it. We have never really spoken about that time..."

Lucius looked out of the window, his lips in a thin line. He shook himself. "So Elena McKinnon survived with the child, Sirius Black's child, yet got herself killed after the war. Stupid woman, stupid Black."

Narcissa nodded, "He should have left her with us. She would have been safe and happy with us."

"None of us knew he was on our side. He would not have risked losing his cover as a spy."

"And his daughter died because of it."

Lucius jerked his head uncomfortably.

"But, my love, even if it wasn't you, it must mean that we know who killed her, it must have been one of our friends..."

Lucius looked down at her in horror, shocked by where her logic had taken her. "Whoever it was could not have known she was Sirius' daughter, they would have thought she was just another McKinnon. They would never have knowingly killed the pureblood daughter of the Dark Lord's most loyal servant."

"One of our friends still killed our niece."

"Has this been troubling you for long? How long have you known?"

"Since I went to Azkaban. I saw Sirius too, and he asked after his daughter. I searched for her, and found her death certificate and the report of the attack. The Death Eaters were never caught."

Lucius sat down next to his wife and picked up both of her small hands, folding them inside of both of his large ones.

She continued, "I've thought about it, my love. I want nothing more to do with the Dark Arts. Nothing more to do with the Dark Lord. On today of all days, you must understand that. I lost almost everything because of him, I lost my whole family, I almost lost you, I lost a niece I never even knew I had. I never want to go through that again."

Lucius leant over and kissed her hairline. "He is never coming back, Cissy."

"Even so..."

He nodded, "I understand, I'll see to it."

...

Remus Lupin put down the letter and sighed. Dumbledore had refused many of his requests to allow him access to Maia – Annie – over these last few years. He looked over at the calendar; Maia had been at Hogwarts for three weeks now. He had written to Dumbledore frequently since her arrival and his only reply had given him a great deal to think about. He picked it up again.

_Dear Remus,_

_Thank you for your letters. I know you care a great deal for Miss. Black and I know you miss her. I imagine that you are rather lonely. You should know though, that had you been more honest with the Blacks, they might have been more understanding, and Cassiopeia would have had less ability to force you out. That said, you must also know that you are always a welcome visitor at my door, and the same goes for any other members of the Order, I'm sure._

Remus snorted and looked round his dusty flat. Nobody had been to see him. Nobody wanted to visit the misanthropic werewolf. He was stuck, after another period of aimless wandering, living in a muggle flat in the muggle world where he barely made a living in a secondhand bookshop that would be closing any day now. The letter continued.

_Nevertheless, Maia is still your goddaughter and so I shall try and write to you to let you know how she is getting along at school. She has been sorted into Slytherin and seems very popular. Her particular friends appear to be Draco Malfoy, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis and Blaise Zabini. Severus has mentioned her in passing on a number of times, and says she displays many of his House's finest qualities. He also finds her a well behaved and well motivated student. He has even implied that he believes her to be intelligent. Coming from Severus, all of this is very high praise indeed._

Here, his stomach tightened. He couldn't believe Marlene's daughter could ever be a Slytherin, yet alone good friends with the children of former Death Eaters. It was, of course, Cassiopeia's influence. She had probably taught her to hate everyone who wasn't as 'good' or as 'pure' as them. He wondered if Maia knew now that she was a pureblood, if she had been told. Dumbledore didn't mention it, but then he admitted himself that Marius only wrote him the briefest of replies now whenever the corresponded.

_I know this may displease you. I was concerned myself, at first, given the reputation of her family and her heritage and was concerned that she had been, despite my best efforts, corrupted by her more unsavoury relatives. Yet I am pleased to tell you that all the other staff have described her as a pleasant girl. She has even befriended a muggleborn witch in her own year from Gryffindor and they often study in the library together. On reflection, I do not think there is any real cause for concern. _

This pleased him, at least. He knew Maia had a kind heart, he was sure of it. He knew it was too kind, even for her family to corrupt. He knew that Marius and Caroline were good influences as well. They might not have the most liberal views regarding werewolves, but then, they probably received their 'facts' from rather biased sources. Perhaps they had allowed her to become stuck-up, and arrogant and perhaps spoiled and selfish, but they would not allow her to become cruel and evil. Even Cassiopeia, for all her manipulations, could not get around them on that front.

_However, I must remind you again to leave Maia in peace. I know you care about her, but she does not know who you really are and I believe that is how it should remain. You could not tell her the truth, without telling her the truth about her parents. Perhaps, she could deal with the knowledge that her father was a Death Eater. She must already know about him, as another 'cousin' and her other relatives, of course. Yet could you tell an eleven year old that their father orchestrated the murder of her mother and her entire family, and that he presumably only spared her because she was a pureblood he could raise in his own image? Remus, could you really do that do a child you claim to care about? Maybe she could be told one day, but not now. She is far too young to be burdened with such a thing._

_I remain, your dear friend and humble servant,_

_Albus Dumbledore._

Remus sighed, placed the letter back on the table, again, and stared around his empty flat, again. It was getting dark, the moon was rising and he was, at that moment, very certain that he hated his life.

...

Hundreds of miles away, as the North Sea roared and the wind wailed, Sirius Black sat in his cell and stared at the fog-laden sky. He shifted his weight back on his haunches, and scratched his paws on the hard stone floor.

How long had he been here?

Months?

Years?

He had lost track of time.

He had stopped counting years ago.

There, now he had it, he had been here for years.

He could hear Bella cackling and he wished she'd stop.

The despair overwhelmed him.

James was dead.

Lily was dead.

Marlene was dead.

Annie was dead.

All his friends were dead.

How long had it been since he'd been in his human form?

But then they'd taken his humanity from him.

Annie was dead.

James was dead.

Lily was dead.

Marlene was dead.

Everyone was dead.

Where was Harry?

How old was he now?

He forced himself to be happy. He forced himself to remember the two small babies. The two babies who had played together. Cute, they had been cute. He had loved them both, he loved them still.

Or maybe they were at Hogwarts? He could see them, sitting side by side in class, terrorising Slytherins like Bella.

But Annie was dead.

Harry would be on his own.

Was Harry old enough for Hogwarts?

No... No, it couldn't be that long. Harry would be with his family.

Bella cackled again.

And the despair overwhelmed him again.

Wherever Harry was, he would surely hate him.

He hated himself.

Annie was dead.

James was dead...

He shook his head.

I'm innocent.

I'm innocent.

I'm innocent.

I'm innocent.

A Dementor glided past.

I am innocent, he howled to the sky, as the full moon burst through the thick clouds.

And then he howled again, because however many months or years it had been, he knew his friend Moony was in pain.

And then he howled again, because his little girl was dead.

Why did he even try to remember?

Why did he even try to stay sane?

Why?

What was the point?

He had nothing.

No reason.

...

**Thank you again for all the reviews, and constructive criticism is always welcome as well. I hope that none of the main characters (Harry, Ron, Hermione, Snape etc.) are too OOC and I really hope that nobody thinks Maia is Mary Sue-ish. I'm not going to say if Maia will help with the Philosopher's Stone, but I do have a question for any American readers out there. Why did they change the 'Philosopher's Stone' to the 'Sorcerer's Stone' in the American edition? I've always wondered why. :) **


	23. The Words Of Another

**No, I still don't own Harry Potter. **

Chapter Twenty Three

Cassiopeia Black tilted her head slightly and frowned at her sister-in-law, who sat sobbing in front of her.

"I just miss her so much, Cassiopeia. I know it's silly, and that she's happy at school, but my nest is empty now that my little baby's gone."

Cassiopeia continued to frown, not quite sure how one was supposed to respond to such a situation.

Caroline took a strengthening sip of her steaming cup of tea, casting a wary glance at the stuffed head of an ancient-looking house elf. "I'm sorry to barge over like this, I didn't mean to impose..."

Still frowning, Cassiopeia looked Caroline up and down. The woman who was usually so elegant and sophisticated that even Cassiopeia could politely forget that she was a muggle was a red-eyed, blubbering mess who had jumped out of the Floo and proceeded to cry. Doing what was expected, Cassiopeia had rung for tea, sat her down, and listened to what she thought would be a story involving the death of an entire family. It turned out she missed Maia.

To Cassiopeia, this was all an alien concept. She was pleased Maia was gone. She was fond of the girl, but this was the best thing all round. Maia was making connections, mixing with the right sort, learning magic and cementing her well-being and popularity. A naturally reserved and emotionally detached woman, Cassiopeia Black had no idea as to how she ought to proceed. Realising that Caroline was still waiting for her to respond, it occurred to her that she ought to try comforting the woman.

"I'm sure Maia is very happy at school."

Caroline nodded dumbly.

"It won't be long until she's home for Yule."

Caroline nodded again.

"She can show you all the new things she's learnt."

Once again, Caroline's head bobbed up and down.

Cassiopeia, running low on her hardly vast supplies of patience, rolled her eyes and snapped, "Oh for goodness sake, your parents sent you away when you were seven and you didn't die, and that was back when muggles still beat each other with sticks!"

Caroline looked up, blinked, realised she was talking about the cane and burst out laughing.

"Oh Cassiopeia, you are so funny sometimes!"

Caroline bristled and sniffed, obviously offended, "I have been accused of many things in my life, Caroline, but _never_ humor."

...

Maia turned the cup on its saucer three times and left the moisture to drain. Tracey's eyes burned with excitement. She had never had her fortune read before. Daphne was painting her nails. Maia had 'practised' on her many times and she disliked how eerily correct she was. She was deliberately ignoring the carrying on nearby. Draco lounged in an armchair opposite, reading a biography of Grindelwald. Blaise was studying across the room and Vincent and Gregory were both in detention for having failed to complete their homework, yet again. Parkinson and Bulstrode were reading magazines by the next fireplace along.

"Think about your future, Tracey." said Maia.

She looked into the cup.

"There's an acorn. You're in good health, though we both knew that already, but if you work hard and apply yourself, you're going to reap the rewards. There's also a lamb. The outcome of something will surprise you, something will go well which you thought would go horribly wrong. I also see an open window; you're well liked at the moment. I like you, at least." Maia smiled.

Tracey beamed, "Did you really See all of that?"

"It's all there in the tea cup."

"But really, will it really happen?"

"Let's see how Flitwick's quiz goes on Friday."

Daphne rolled her eyes, "Tracey, Maia's a true Seer. She's not like Trelawney. Her predictions come true."

"That still means you have to study, Tracey. The acorn's reward comes through endeavour."

Tracey nodded fervently. Queenie Greengrass, who was now in her fourth year, had wandered over. "Are you still reading those things?"

"Yes" said Maia resolutely. When Queenie had come home from her first year at Hogwarts, Maia had read her tea leaves and seen a vampire. Queenie's pet kneazle had suddenly died the next day. Queenie nodded and didn't say anything, but went to sit next to Daphne and the pair started whispering.

It wasn't her fault, thought Maia. She hadn't killed the pet, just predicted that someone close to her was going to die. She didn't make it happen. Queenie didn't see it exactly the same way, naturally.

Maia didn't notice Parkinson stride over. When Parkinson stood in front of her, Maia saw a pained look cross Draco's face. "Go away, Parkinson. You aren't welcome here."

"It's a free common room." She snapped.

Draco shrugged, "Really? Because I happen to know that Queenie's secretly snogging Bertram Nott and he'll happily put you in dentition if she asks him to."

Queenie flushed, "How on earth did-"

"I have my sources." He said smoothly, "Now get out of my sight, Parkinson."

Parkinson shrugged, "I only wanted to ask if Maia was really a Seer."

"Yes," said Maia, raising her chin slightly. "I am."

"But you're a half-blood."

"Well spotted." She snapped.

Parkinson remained hard faced. "Prove it."

"Prove what?" She said, feigning innocence.

"Prove that you're a Seer."

Maia was about to refuse when Draco called over to Daphne, "Go and fetch Maia's crystal ball. You know where she keeps it, right?"

Daphne rose gracefully and swept across the room to ascend the stairs. A number of other students were starting to look in their direction. When Daphne came back, they went to sit on one of the desks, the crystal glass placed between them.

Maia held out her hands, palms upwards, and Parkinson placed her own on top.

"You know that I could See anything, right? I can See your past, your present and your future. Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

Parkinson leant across and mouthed, "You won't see anything, _mudblood_."

Maia shrugged. She closed her eyes.

She saw Parkinson, much younger. She was poking flowers, making them bloom, then touching them again to make them wither.

She, Parkinson, was older now. She was playing with muggles, with muggle toys, in a muggle house. There were older people there, her grandparents. A young woman in witch's robes, her mother, looked on.

She saw Parkinson, sat beneath the Sorting Hat. It knew she was a Slytherin. It said she had a mean streak.

She saw Parkinson and Bulstrode sat in their dorm, complaining about Maia.

She saw Parkinson, older now, in her teens, waving her wand at a first-year Hufflepuff. A large gash appeared across the small boy's face.

She saw Parkinson, laughing with Draco and Vincent and Gregory as they walked around a darkened Hogwarts. It was late at night. They were cackling. They were talking about the Dark Lord.

She saw Parkinson yelling at a stone wall, she hated Harry Potter, hated him so much she could rip in half...

Maia pulled away from her abruptly. The future was always confusing, but if the future went the way Parkinson wanted, or the way she acted now, the future would be Dark. Maia shook her head; that was all quite far in the future. Things were so vague.

But the past...

She leant across and whispered, "_I know your secret_."

...

Parkinson remained as vile as ever. She pretended as though nothing had happened. Maia nursed the secret, trying to think of a way she could use it to her advantage and hopefully silence Parkinson. A few days later they sat a Charms test with Flitwick. Hermione placed first, Maia placed second, Daphne placed third Tracey placed fourth. She had 90% correct answers and earned Slytherin ten points. She was thrilled.

The next day was a day that all the first years had been anxiously anticipating: Flying Lessons.

Maia was looking forward to seeing Hermione on a broom. The poor muggleborn had been dutifully reading every Quidditch book in the library, as if that would somehow help her. She'd tried to explain that it wouldn't help, and that she would look after her, but it had all fallen on deaf ears.

Draco was gloating; he couldn't wait to see the Gryffindors make fools of themselves. She had to admit, she felt the same. Of course, she hoped Hermione enjoyed herself and she couldn't bring herself to wish anything ill on Longbottom, but she wanted to see the Weasel and Finnegan knocked down a peg or two.

She felt sorry for Potter as they all walked out onto the pitch. She remembered he'd been raised by muggles and had never flown before. She'd heard all the Potters were great flyers though and that he was sure to be good. She would have thought that someone would have informed him of this – confidence was the key to flying and Harry looked very green indeed. It probably didn't help that Draco was there. As she had predicted, Draco had not let the slight go unnoticed and he, Potter and the Weasel had, within just three weeks of schooling, managed to establish a feud between the three of them.

They formed a line and Maia tuned out as Madam Hootch lectured them. When she commanded 'up' her broom leapt to her hand immediately. Of course it did though, Cassiopeia had taught her to say all her commands like a Black. A daughter of the House of Black must command authority and must always be obeyed.

Only she, Draco, Blaise, Harry and Finnegan were holding their brooms.

Maia shot Draco a smug look when Hootch told him he held the broom wrong. She had been telling him that for years.

From there, it all started to go horribly wrong.

They were supposed to hover, but Longbottom lost control. He started to drift higher and higher until he panicked and fell to the ground with a sickening crack. The sound made Maia flinch. She heard Draco start laughing, but he ignored her when she hissed at him to stop. He never ignored he, at least, he had never ignored her before.

She had told him not to, she had told him to stop, she had told him he was being a bully and an idiot and a disgrace to the House of Malfoy, but he did it anyway.

He taunted Potter to catch Longbottom's stupid little ball-thing. And then Professor McGonagall had caught them. She sent them back inside, Draco to Professor Snape, and dragged Potter off by the scruff of his neck.

She was fuming at Draco, but had a new found respect for Potter. He was quite the flyer.

...

Draco lost ten points and had a weeks' worth of detentions. Professor Snape had gone soft on him because he was his Godfather.

Maia was hurt; Draco had ignored her. He'd carrying on, with Parkinson of all people, taunting Potter. How could he? How could he act with Parkinson over her? He'd apologised, of course, and swore that he hadn't listened to Parkinson at all. He had only wanted to annoy Potter.

And that was another thing. Who was he to taunt Potter? She might not particularly like him herself, but who were they to taunt him? Who was Draco to taunt the boy who had saved their world and saved Draco's own father, her uncle Lucius, from the Imperius Curse?

But they made up, because they were cousins, and they would stand together until the very end.

...

The weeks began to roll by. She and Draco fell out (and of course reconciled) again when he challenged Potter to a wizard's duel. He was only trying to set him up to be caught by Filch.

She commended his tactics as a Slytherin but admonished him as an heir to the House of Malfoy. He ought to be dignified and above such petty things.

She was most annoyed because he had almost got Hermione killed by a three-headed dog. She had tried to stop Potter and the idiot Weasel from wandering around the corridors, adamant that Draco had set them up (if only she wasn't a muggleborn, she would have made such a good Slytherin, to see through such a plan) and they had ended up in the forbidden corridor with a giant, blood-thirsty three-headed dog. How utterly stupid. Hermione thought it was guarding something and Maia was inclined to agree, but neither of them wanted anything more to do with it.

Parkinson had started following her around more often, poking her in the corridor, or in the library, or the girl's toilets, just to whisper in her ear that vile, filthy word.

And it was more sickening now, because she knew Parkinson was a half blood too. Why was she pretending?

But Maia rose above it and would shrug her shoulders, or arch an eyebrow. Unlike Draco, she had mastered the art of poise and disdain and she would not respond. She would not even complain. The word was vile but it meant nothing to her, because it didn't apply.

She would make her father and Aunt Cassiopeia proud.

Though she might prank the girl if the opportune circumstances arose.

...

On the second week of October, when the skies about the great hall were covered with thick rain clouds, a letter and a parcel landed in front of Maia. Luckily, it was the weekend so she wasn't in a rush for class so she had plenty of time to read and open it carefully. She thought it was going to be more cakes from her mother, but when she saw the seal and the cursive handwriting (Maia herself now wrote in almost an identical script) she knew it was from Cassiopeia.

Maia opened the letter first,

_Dear Maia,_

_I am writing to send you a present, as I feel you deserve one after making us so proud. I write this after having spent a very long afternoon with Narcissa. Draco is causing her plenty of concern, of late, as I'm sure you'll understand. I hear that he has lost a number of points for petty rule breaking, has had detention where he had to clean and perform manual labour (which is most unbecoming for people of our standing) and that he is being regularly beaten in essays and tests by a Gryffindor mudblood, and by a significant margin._

_Although I am concerned to hear that you are consorting with her, I accept the friendship. She appears very intelligent and motivated and she is, still, a witch. As long as you do not degrade yourself by behaving like a mudblood, and abandoning the traditions and prestige of our family, I feel the acquaintance could be beneficial to you. The teachers will certainly like you for it and perhaps you could teach her the ways of the wizarding world so that she loses any vulgar muggle manners. (Your mother's manners are impeccable, dear Maia, but the upper classes of both societies are rather rare breeds, are we not? I'm sure you will understand what I mean. You have met Weasleys first hand now, have you not? All the lower orders are the same, regardless)._

_Yet I digress. After talking with your Aunt Narcissa, I am even more pleased with your behaviour than before. You have conducted yourself with decorum, won points for your House and placed at the top of your class for almost every essay, and have never placed below second. I am proud. As a result, I am sending you this gift. I used it myself when I was at Hogwarts. I hope, when you use it, you will be proud of our Houses, both Black and Slytherin. _

_Your mother and father wish me to send their love. I am not so sentimental. I send you my fondest affection._

_Your aunt,_

_Cassiopeia Black._

Maia passed the letter to Draco out of habit, though decided he deserved to read it anyway. He snorted and demanded she open her present. She carefully opened it and pulled out a beautiful inkwell. It was made of highly polished silver, and the lid was quite spectacular. A large, deeply green emerald glittered in the centre, framed by a snake, carved from jade, eating its tail. When she lifted the lid to look inside, she saw the same snake inlaid with gold framing the family motto: Always Pure.

It was only then that she looked up to see that Hermione had bounded over to visit her. Maia reached over to Draco to grab the letter back before there was any chance Hermione might see. It was too late. Parkinson saw and Parkinson guessed. She snatched the letter from Draco and passed it to Hermione. Her pug-like face couldn't have looked more smug when she informed Hermione that she might like to read the letter.

"Hermione," said Maia, as calmly as she could manage, "please give me my letter back. It's from my aunt."

"Oh, do read it Hermione, you'll just love it." Simpered Parkinson.

"Oh be quiet." Snapped Maia, turning to her. She was getting desperate. Hermione could not read that letter, she wouldn't understand. She would hate her, she just didn't know how things worked, how they were. She didn't understand!

"Are you trying to hide something?"

"Please give me the letter back, Hermione."

"You are pathetic, Black, you know that. She ought to read it. She ought to know where she stands."

"And how does she stand anywhere different to us?"

"She's not like us, well, like _me_."

"I know your secret Parkinson."

"I'm not the same as you."

Their voices were raised and teachers were coming.

"No, I'm infinitely better." Spat Maia.

"You filthy mudblood! You're not even good enough to be a mudblood, you're a half breed. That's what you are! Your father's a Squib, he's not even human. He's little more than an animal and that makes you a half-breed."

She suddenly heard feet clattering as the teachers started running, the hall had gone silent as everyone could hear them now. She could hear chairs scraped back as Draco, Daphne, Blaise, Vincent and Gregory all drew their wands. Draco was yelling something as well. Maia didn't care. She wasn't paying attention. She launched herself at Parkison, knocking her to the floor.

"You take that back you vile piece of lower-class filth! My father's Squib blood is worth ten times the mud that's in your veins! You dare taunt me, you dare mock me? You are nothing to me, nothing to the House of Black!" She felt herself being dragged back by Professor Snape but she couldn't stop yelling, "You take that back about my father, you take that back! The only thing in this room that's an animal is you! You're filth! Filth!"

She was still struggling as she and Parkinson were dragged from the hall, only looking back to see Hermione's tear-stained face.

The rest of the hall had gone deathly silent, though on the lion's table a cluster of red-heads looked like Christmas had come early.

...

**Hello, I'm just going to answer a couple of reviews/questions quickly, though I don't want to give away any spoilers. : )**

**This is a Black family drama, so Andromeda will make an appearance, as will Ted and Tonks. However, I haven't decided exactly when they will appear.**

**As for Maia using Bellatrix's wand, all I'm going to say is that it will become significant on an emotional level and for her relationship with other characters. (It's not meant to be a Mary-Sue demonstration of her power).**

**Sorry if Ron is being annoying, but I do think that is how he would react/behave and he was horrible to Hermione at the start of the year.**

**Also, thank you to those who answered my question about the Philosopher's/Sorcerer's Stone. : ) **


	24. But No Divide Can Be Crossed Forever

**No, I still don't own Harry Potter**

Chapter Twenty Four

Maia walked quickly through the Common Room, ignoring Draco and the others who were waiting for her next to their usual fireplace. She ran up the stairs to her dorm room two at a time and threw herself on her bed. She buried her head in her pillow and sobbed.

She wasn't quite sure how long she lay there before she felt a hand gently shaking her shoulder. "Come on Maia, you can't lie there forever. You have to move or we'll get a prefect."

Maia shook her head vigorously.

"Come on, you're worrying us. It's not like you've never been in trouble before." It was Draco's voice now and Maia sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Yes, but this is different."

"How so?"

"Because my parents don't actually care when I do something bad, they always get over it. The professors are going to hate me forever, even Dumbledore saw. I'll never be a prefect now and Aunt Cassiopeia will be disappointed in me, just after she sent me a letter and a present to say that I was behaving like a proper Black."

Draco shrugged, "Maia, you are a Black. Cassiopeia's stuck with you if she likes it or not. The teachers will forget soon enough. What did they do to you?"

"I've got a week's worth of detention with Professor Snape and I lost five points for Slytherin. He was really angry. He never normally takes points from us."

Daphne paused, "Yes, but what happened to Parkinson? Do you know?"

Maia nodded, "She's got a month's worth of detention with Filch and lost ten points."

"How come she got more?"

Maia looked at her duvet, "I might have been really upset, and started crying, and told Professor Snape everything."

Draco's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean 'everything'?"

Maia's voice went smaller than ever and she clasped her hands tightly, "She's been following me all over school and calling me... she's been calling me a 'mudblood', amongst other things."

Draco slammed his hand on the four poster bed, "That piece of filth! I'll kill her, nobody calls a Black a mudblood." He turned on his hell and jerked his head, "Vincent, Gregory, follow me."

They made their way to the door, but Maia called him back. "No! That'll just make it worse! You'll get yourselves expelled!"

Draco stuck out his chin, "Father would never allow that to happen."

Maia started to cry again, whilst Blaise stalked over and dragged Draco back. Vincent and Gregory followed.

Daphne's eyes had widened, "That's awful, but I can't believe you told Professor Snape. She'll be worse than ever now!"

Maia nodded, "I know, but I didn't want him to think that _I_ was the insane blood purist. Besides, I can deal with it."

Draco's faced was stone-like, "Well, I don't like that you let it get this far. We should always deal with these things together. You should have come to me. But we'll stick with you and we'll hex her into oblivion if she dares to call your father a half-breed again, or says anything else out of place."

"But I feel so guilty! I behaved awfully, but I was just so angry. I can deal with her calling me a mudblood, and if ratting her out to Snape makes her worse, then I can deal with anything else she tries as well, but I just couldn't bear to hear her call my father an animal!"

Tracey nodded, "People are stupid sometimes, but we all know that there's nothing wrong with you or your father. And there's nothing wrong with me either. Parkinson will grow up and realise that as well some point. And there's nothing wrong with being angry. If anyone had called my father something like that, I would have done exactly the same thing."

Tears started spilling over again, "But Hermione'll hate me know, after she read the letter."

Blaise shrugged, "Then it's her loss. Your aunt wrote those things, not you." He passed the letter and the inkwell back to her, "You left these behind, anyway. Besides, she might be more understanding that you think."

"Thank you." She sniffed and made another attempt to dry her eyes.

"Besides" said Draco, "you still have us. Hanging out with us in the Common Room has to be better than studying with her in the library. You'll turn into a muggle-lover."

Maia shook her head and laughed a little at the joke, "I _am_ a muggle-lover!"

...

Hermione Granger sat on her bed in her dormitory, her back resting against the headboard and her knees pulled up to her chest as she found solace in _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi._ Yet however much she stared at the page in front of her, it was the words of Maia's letter that swam in front of her eyes.

_Mudblood_

_Vulgar muggle manners_

_Lower orders_

Maia had been the only person who had been nice to her since she had arrived. Yet now it seemed as though their friendship was over, it had to be. Maia had been nice to her, but did she really look down on her? She had said it didn't matter if someone had a magical family or not, but it seemed her family really did. Could Maia _really_ think differently to them? Was she really only being her friend to get the teachers on side? That was what Ron Weasley had said. That was what her aunt had said she should do.

And it was odd, that they would spend time together, but never with Maia's other friends from Slytherin. Maia had said it was because Hermione was a Gryffindor, but was it because her parents were muggles? Had Maia been trying to spare her feelings? Or had she and her Slytherin friends just been leading her on and laughing at her behind her back?

Hermione steeled herself and forced herself to concentrate on her books in front of her. She had never had friends before Hogwarts and she certainly didn't need them now. She would study for all that she was worth and, so, when she left here, she would be the one who was successful.

No one would hold her down forever.

Not even Maia Black.

...

Ron Weasley and Harry Potter were lounging in the Gryffindor Common Room. They still had homework to finish for Monday, but they were sure that they would be able to get it all done in time in the end. Ron was trying to teach Harry wizard's chess, and although Harry wasn't bad, he was by no means a match for Ron.

Ron laughed, "Can you believe this morning? I thought Black was going to gouge Parkinson's eyes out!"

Harry nodded, "I know – I thought I was dreaming!"

"I didn't think she could move that quickly! She's always busy strolling along with her nose in the air!"

Ron and Harry laughed again at the maniacal image of the usually austere girl.

Harry looked across at his new friend – his first friend – who began laughing even harder. Harry liked Ron a lot, he was normal and didn't seem fazed by the scar on his forehead the same way that everyone else was. Harry was worried that they didn't spend enough time studying, but they were only first years, after all.

Suddenly, two identical grinning faces appeared in front of them.

"Good afternoon, boys."

"Spiffing day, isn't it?"

"Quite smashing, old chap."

"Quite an exciting start as well."

"Oh yes, trouble in the Slytherin paradise!"

"Oh yes."

Ron rolled his eyes at his cousins, "What do you two gits want?"

"Do you hear that, Fred?"

"Yes, our own brother-"

"would you believe it-"

"never-"

"couldn't image it-"

"not in a million years!"

Harry couldn't help laughing, "How can we actually help you?"

"Oliver Wood said to remind you that we've got a full team practise tonight."

Harry nodded and thanked them. A nervous feeling was already starting to settle in his stomach when he thought about the upcoming match against Slytherin.

Fred spoke again, "I hope little Maia Black never makes the Slytherin team, she's a right vicious one when she's angry, isn't she?"

George shrugged, "Understandable though, I suppose."

"How can a Slytherin's behaviour ever be understandable?" asked Ron, who had already turned back to examining the chessboard, and who didn't seem particularly interested.

"Didn't you hear what Pansy Parkinson called her father?" said Fred.

"Nope, don't care. That Maia Black is awful."

Harry shook his head, more interested than Ron, "What did Parkinson say?"

"Called her Dad an animal-"

"Called her a half-breed-"

"All because he's a Squib!"

"Sorry, what's a Squib?" asked Harry, interrupting the twins and wishing again that he knew more about the magical world.

"A witch or wizard who can't do magic."

Ron's face lit up with glee, "That's brilliant! That ought to bring the stuck-up doxy down a peg or two. And she's been walking around with her nose in the air because she's a 'daughter of the House of Black'!" He sat up straight and abandoned the chess game entirely, "I can't wait for our next class with her! Hey Harry, look at the timetable, do with have Charms or Potions with her first?"

Harry looked at Ron and frowned, surprised by his heartlessness. It certainly sounded anything but brilliant to him. It sounded very cruel. The twins wandered off, and the two boys went back to their game but Harry started to wonder if Ron hadn't been rather quick to judge Maia Black. After all, Harry knew that he didn't particularly like her, but this business about her family did not seem very nice at all.

...

Although all of Slytherin knew Maia's parentage, as few Slytherins spoke to other Houses, most had assumed that, by virtue of her surname, Maia was a pureblood. To find out that the House of Black – which was supposedly _Always Pure _– had produced a Squib, who had married a muggle, who had produced a witch between them, was perhaps the best gossip since Harry Potter had arrived. Even some half bloods and muggleborns who might not have known the story of the Black family were able to enjoy the gossip when their other friends explained it to them.

As a result, the rest of the weekend went badly for Maia. At best, she had to listen to whispers as she passed through the corridor. Students were whispering about how Dark her family was, and what an embarrassment she must be to her family, etc. etc. At worst, they were calling out and taunting her as she went by.

Worse still, Hermione was refusing to talk to her and was avoiding her at all costs. Maia hoped, in a way that she wasn't proud of, that it wouldn't last. She'd tried to apologise, but Hermione had walked away, but then Hermione didn't have any other friends at the moment so there was a good chance she'd give in eventually and talk to Maia again. As said before, Maia wasn't particularly proud of her rationalising. She also wasn't particularly proud of her own outburst. She had said some vile things, mostly the insults she had heard used by her aunt and Draco's parents, but that didn't make it right. She knew those insults were wrong. Her father had told her not to use them, because they could be as equally applied to her as anyone else, even though she was a Black.

She tried not to stay in the Common Room for too long, as some of the older students were angry that she'd lost points and embarrassed Slytherin. Most of them didn't seem to care about the first year's antics though. She was mainly avoiding Parkinson.

She wished she could find a way to avoid Weasley as well, who had laughed loudly about 'the incident' as the Gryffindors and Slytherins queued up for Charms on Monday morning.

"Can you believe it?" he cried, "She walks round with her nose stuck in the air like she's Merlin's gift to the world, and her dad's a Squib and her mum's a muggle!"

Worse still, she heard all the Gryffindor first years laughing, except for a few of the muggleborns.

A tall black boy asked quietly, "Why is that funny? My mum's a muggle too."

Weasley shrugged, "It's just funny because she acts like it matters when she's clearly in denial. It just shows how stupid and pathetic she is."

Hermione didn't say anything, though she didn't laugh either. The rest of the group seemed mollified. Draco was about to reach for his wand say something, but Maia held him back and Flitwick appeared to usher them in.

Maia thought it was highly unfair that Weasley should insult her for having Death Eater relatives, yet make blood jokes himself.

She consoled herself with the fact that she earned three points for Slytherin and sat next to Tracey when Hermione pointedly filled the vacant seat next to her with her bag.

At seven o'clock, Maia made her way to the dungeons and knocked on the door.

Professor Snape was sitting behind his desk. "You're early."

Maia looked at the floor, thinking it best not to make eye contact. She didn't want to antagonise one of her favourite teachers, and her Head of House. "I'm sorry, sir."

"It is perhaps just as well. You will not be serving your detention with me tonight. Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak with you."

Maia's stomach dropped. If the Headmaster wanted to speak to her, then she must really be in trouble. But if he was going to expel her, why hadn't he done it already?

Maia nodded, but Professor Snape had already stood up and walked from the room, his bat-like robes billowing out behind him. Maia was terrified. She shouldn't have called Parkinson those things and two wrongs didn't make a right, but she was sure she didn't deserve an expulsion. And yes, her aunt had written a horrid letter, but she hadn't said any of those things to Hermione directly and nor would she. There was a difference between being proud of one's family and family history and using it to one's advantage, and then behaving in a terrible and bigoted manner. Besides, even people who said those things weren't all bad. Uncle Lucius said horrible things about muggleborns (she knew Draco had been forbidden from talking to the muggleborns at school) but he was still alright as a person. He was always civil to her parents, for example.

All too soon, she found herself climbing the staircase to the Headmaster's study. If she had been thinking properly, she would have memorised the password.

The elderly Professor was waiting for her. His light blue eyes seemed to pierce her own and his lips were set in a thin line. He didn't seem as carefree and jovial as he appeared at the dining table. "Good evening, Miss. Black." His voice was measured, but not overly harsh.

"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore, sir." She kept her eyes averted and felt rather angry. Why was he talking to her and not Parkinson? Surely they had both behaved as badly as each other? She was also sure that Parkinson's behaviour was worse than her own.

"Do you know why I wish to speak to you, Miss Black?"

Maia nodded, "It is because of what happened at breakfast on Saturday."

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, indeed it is. Professor Snape has given me to understand that you were provoked, and that Miss Parkinson has been... pushing you for quite some time. Is this true?"

Maia was slightly offended at the implication she had been dishonest, "Yes, sir. I do not lie."

Dumbledore nodded again and leant back in his care, resting the tips of his hands together and observing her over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "I'm pleased to hear that. Why do you not lie?"

"I do not lie, sir, because it is wrong to lie and because I would not disgrace my family by lowering my standards of behaviour."

Dumbledore nodded again. "So why did you attack Miss Parkinson and insult her? Surely that is also demeaning?"

"I lost my temper."

"So if you lost your temper and disgraced your family once, why could you not do it twice and lie about Miss Parkinson as well."

"Has Miss Parkinson accused me of lying?"

"I'm afraid she has. She claims you have been bullying her for being a half blood for quite some time. She wishes, quite understandably, that her blood status remain private. She feels such things are private and should not be discussed because they make no difference to ones magical ability."

Maia thought she might scream at the injustice of it. He automatically believed Parkinson over her? One mistake and weeks of good behaviour and good results counted for nothing. Not to mention the fact that Parkinson had been putting it about – loudly – that she was a pureblood. "I am not lying, sir. I will take veritasierum, if it pleases you and assures you that I am telling the truth." She looked across as saw his pensieve, "I will show you my memories. My Aunt Cassiopeia has told me that you are an occulums. I will let you read my mind. I am not lying."

Dumbledore leant forwards and rested his elbows on the desk. "Professor Snape is inclined to believe you over Miss Parkinson. What do you say to that?"

"I am pleased that Professor Snape trusts me."

Dumbledore stared at her and Maia refused to blink, in case he was using occulums.

He had to admit that he was not sure what to make of this child. She was very smart and very pretty and very popular with her friends. She did not seem like a likely candidate for bullying. She was also stood there, challenging him, with a confidence that bordered on arrogance and with a stance that showed she had been taught how to argue her point. Her haughty expression amused him as much as it worried him. She had spent a lot of time with the Blacks and the Malfoys, enough to behave like them and so, perhaps, enough to think like them. He was concerned. He knew that Marius had instilled proper values in her, even from his terse correspondence, but even so...

"Would you like a cup of tea?" He poured the tea with a wave of his wand and levitated it towards Maia. She drank it without a moment's hesitation.

"Has Miss Parkinson been bullying you?"

"Yes, sir." She would tell the truth now. She would not be disgraced by the lies of Parkinson.

"What has she been doing?"

"She has been following me around, poking me and trying to knock me over. She says nasty things about my mother and my father. She calls me a mudblood."

"How does this make you feel?"

"Horrible, I hate it. She's saying horrible things about my family, who I love anyway, that I can't help."

Dumbledore nodded, "I am sorry for not believing you before, Miss. Black, and whatever you might think, there was no veritarserum in that tea. But these were very serious allegations. How do you feel about your own behaviour?"

"I acted wrongly. I should have just ignored her, but I was angry. I should not have used blood purist insults, my mother and father would be upset. They were just the worst insults I knew."

Dumbledore nodded again. After all these years, it seemed Marius had been the one in the right.

"As I said before, I am very sorry. I will be speaking to Miss. Parkinson directly about her behaviour." He looked at the girl in front of him, she did not look placated in the slightest. Offense and outrage were written across her face and, if she had been raised to be a proud Black, he was sure she would be outraged until her dying day. "I am also pleased that you told the truth throughout, without complaint or exaggeration. I award you twenty five points to Slytherin, although you must still complete your week's worth of detention, if only to remind you to control your temper. Fighting is not allowed in Hogwarts."

"Yes, sir."

"Now, it's late enough already. So hop hop, along to bed."

...

Professor Snape was nice enough during the detentions. He made Maia grade the quizzes that he had given the first years the week before and clean the cauldrons, allowing her to use magic. He said it was good practice.

Parkinson and Bulstrode ignored her and Maia considered this an improvement, and although Hermione still wasn't speaking to her, she hoped this would soon change. Her parents and Aunt Cassiopeia had both written to her, admonishing her for her behaviour, but also understood that she had been provoked and forgave her. Instead, they told her not to repeat the same mistakes in the future. She assumed that her mother was more upset about the bullying than anything else, as she received giant care packages from Trixie every day that week.

At least she still had her Slytherin friends, and soon it would be Halloween and the Quidditch season was about to start. The rest of Slytherin were pleased that she had won back the points she had lost and Bertram Nott pulled her aside and told her that if she had any future problems, she should come to him and Gemma directly and they would 'straighten Parkinson out'. She may not be the most accepted person in Slytherin, given her birth, but she could at least count on the prefects to be fair and know that the House looked out for its own.

And at least she no longer had to worry about Dumbledore doubting her word again, because she was sure that if he had not used veriterserum, he had at least used occulums.

Though she was certain that she would detest the man for the rest of her life.

...

**Thank you again for all the lovely reviews – it makes me so happy when any reviews and constructive criticism appear in my inbox. It's the only way I know what I'm getting right/wrong. **

**Pansy's story will come out (in bits and pieces) throughout the story, and Maia doesn't even know all of it herself at the moment. Her response at the end of the last chapter was mainly out of anger. And bear in mind where she's been bought up and where she learnt her insults. She's not an 'insane blood purist', but she has grown up in that sort of environment and it would affect her.**


	25. The Cards Never Lie

**I still don't own Harry Potter**

Chapter Twenty Five

"Hermione! Hermione!" Maia ran after her, her school bag knocking against her back as she ran. "Hermione, will you stop and listen to me? For Merlin's sake!"

It had been weeks since the letter incident, as she and the others referred to it. It was mid-November now and the Christmas holidays were fast approaching. Her detentions were long behind her and Dumbledore was no longer watching her at meal times, as he had apparently lost interest in her now that he didn't think she was an evil blood purist, and wasn't checking to see that she wasn't gossiping about their 'little talk' or something to that effect.

Hermione spun round on her heel with her nose in the air. Weasley and Potter stopped beside her, each looking at the other warily. After a spree of hexes in the run-up to the last Quidditch match, both were reluctant to be within ten feet of a Slytherin.

"What do you want, Maia? Can't you see I'm busy?" She snapped.

Maia looked disdainfully at Weasley, "With who? Him?"

"These happen to be my friends."

"And watch your mouth, Black, or I'll hex you."

Maia turned to Weasely, "You wouldn't know how, and you know full well if you tried anything that I'd have the whole of Slytherin after you." She tossed her hair, "I happen to be quite the favourite at the moment." It was true. The teachers had been particularly free when it came to giving points to the quiet, polite young girl who had been so cruelly bullied by her Housemate. Whilst Parkinson could not get the time of day from most of Slytherin, Maia was welcome wherever she went.

Hermione grabbed Maia's arm and turned her back to face her, "Just say what you have to say, Black, and stop insulting my friends. You're as bad as Malfoy."

Maia reeled from the shock of Hermione reverting to surnames.

They'd never called each other by their surnames.

And who was Hermione to take the upper hand in their friendship? Of course she had a right to be upset, but she'd had plenty of time now. She ought to be over it. Maia had apologised ten times at least, this was the eleventh by her reckoning. And it was Maia who had first welcomed her into the wizarding world, that ought to count for something, surely? And who was Hermione to criticise Draco?

Maia looked her up and down, "I was coming to apologise for my aunt's letter, _Granger_, but I can see now the attempt is pointless. I'm sorry she offended you and I would like our friendship to continue. You know that I don't look down on you because of your family. I'm not a hypocrite, but there are only so many times I'm going to apologise. And don't you dare insult Draco, he's my cousin."

"I don't care if he's your cousin, he's horrid to Harry and Ron."

"They haven't been exactly lovely to him, from what I hear." Maia knew this wasn't entirely truthful, but she had to defend Draco, on principle. "Besides, they weren't nice to you before, were they? I know they saved you from a troll, and yes, it was very gallant and brave but that doesn't make them perfect, does it? I don't see why you have to stop being friends with me."

"Because I don't want to be friends with someone who hangs around with bigoted, stupid and prejudiced people. And because I don't want to be friends with someone who doesn't stand up for what is right, whatever the cost."

Maia seethed at the insults Hermione was throwing at her friends and family. It was just how Aunt Cassiopeia had explained muggles to her. Hermione might be a witch now, but she'd grown up as a muggle before. Loyalty and honesty meant nothing to them, they were fickle and jumped around and chopped and changed their friendships at the drop of a hat. And how could Hermione demand that she defy or even criticise her aunt? Did she know nothing of respect and deference? And her refusal to accept her apology was a clear mark of ill-breeding.

"Fine, I shan't waste my breath any longer." She turned to Weasley and Potter, partly in sincerity, and partly to underline the fact that she was the better person in all of this, and said, "I did mean what I said about the mountain troll, it was very brave, and you put on a good show in the Quidditch match, Potter. Though I do wish Slytherin had won, of course, but I can't help being biased." She smiled politely at both of them and left without another word.

She would wash her hands of the lot of them, if that was how they thought they could treat her. Who were they to insult her, to insult her friends and to insult her family? Who was Hermione to reject her repeated apologies? Who was Hermione to act as if she was somehow her superior, as if she was in some sort of position to pass judgement on them all? Did Hermione have no idea who _she_ was? Who _her_ family were? Who was she to pass judgement on who and what was right and wrong when she was still in school robes?

...

Maia turned the Tarot cards over.

She wasn't reading for anyone in particular. She wasn't even reading for herself. She was angry and miserable. The only thing that was really on her mind was Hogwarts. She had desperately wanted to make things up with Hermione, and this was not how she had imagined her year turning out. She thought that she would have friends in all the houses, but she was spending all her time either in the Slytherin Common Room or the library. She hardly ever saw Ernie anymore, except in passing. The Hufflepuffs avoided them, and although she had sat with Boot and Patil in the library a few times, she could hardly call the two Ravenclaws friends.

She looked down at the cards:

_The Tower_

_The Devil_

_Death_

They were all inverted.

Something terrible was going on inside Hogwarts, or something terrible was going to happen in general. A sickening feeling filled her stomach when she remembered glimpses of Parkinson's future.

"What's up, cousin?" She heard a thump and Draco jumped over the arm of the sofa and landed among the cushions. She shook herself and quickly turned the cards over so that Draco wouldn't see them. She was being silly. It wasn't even a real reading and nothing really bad was going on in Hogwarts, expect for the fact that that stupid old man was in charge.

"Not much, have you finished Snape's essay?"

Draco nodded, "It's two inches too short but I doubt he'll mind." Maia laughed, knowing that Draco could get away with murder in that class. In fact, if he bumped off a few Gryffindors, he might even win points for it.

"No, he won't care."

"Have you done it?"

"Finished it two days ago."

"Of course," Draco rolled his eyes, "you are sooo going to be a prefect."

"I hope so, I'd love to give you detention." She shot back, giving him a wicked grin. She forced the cards even further from her mind.

"Speaking of prefects, have you put any thought into pranking Nott? We did toss the idea round after the welcoming feast, you know."

Maia shook her head, "No, he was really good about Parkinson. We won't prank him." They both grinned thinking about Parkinson, who, in punishment for both bullying and lying, was still in detention and was cleaning toilets by hand right at that moment, supervised by Filch, "But I think we ought to do something about the Weasleys."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "All of them?"

"Yes, all of them." Declared Maia stoutly.

Draco grinned. "I knew there was a reason you were my favourite cousin."

Several more thumps followed this statement where the rest of their group sat on the leather sofas around them. Daphne tossed a copy of the _Quibbler_ into the fire. "Some idiot Hufflepuff mudblood actually nagged me into taking this; they seemed to think that it was all true!" She said, with a dramatic roll of her eyes.

Maia laughed, "Which one?"

Maia didn't notice Draco looking at her, wondering why she didn't object to the M-word as she usually did. But he wasn't going to complain if she was starting to come round to blood ideas. It was about time, after all. He wasn't sure how much longer father would tolerate his friendship with Maia, as there were plenty of whispers at Malfoy Manor already that she was going to grow up to be a blood-traitor and a disgrace. He was sure she was only tolerated at the moment, by his father at least, because Aunt Cassiopeia made such a fuss of her. Of course, his mother genuinely liked her, but that was mother. He liked her too, he meant it when he said that she was his favourite cousin and best friend, but he would prefer it if they could agree on important things and if didn't have to feel like he was watching his words around her. It was bad enough out there in school, but he ought to be able to speak freely in his own Common Room.

Daphne chewed her lip, "Flit-Fetchley, Fit-Fitteley? Something like that?" She sat up a little straighter and tossed her long blonde hair back over her shoulder and shrugged delicately. She clearly thought his name was irrelevant to her existence.

Maia nodded, "I know, the blonde one. He is an idiot; asks the stupidest questions in DADA." She pretended to raise her hand and pulled a face, "Professor, Professor, sir? Are werewolves real? Is it true they're dangerous?"

"Oh Salazar, he does annoy me!" giggled Tracey. "I can't believe your cousin Ernie hangs around with him."

Draco nodded gravely, "Ernie does seem to be letting his standards drop, but still, he's family. Even if he is a muggle-loving Hufflepuff now..." Draco grimaced.

Maia coughed pointedly and Draco rolled his eyes, perhaps he had thought too soon...

Daphne turned to Maia, "What was going on with you and Granger earlier?" She looked concerned, "I saw you arguing on the staircase. She's not being mean, is she?"

Draco leant over, "You know you can tell us if she is."

Maia shook her head, "No, not really. She's still being funny about the letter though."

"Has she still not dropped that?" said Draco.

Blaise frowned, "She really ought to have gotten over it by now. It's not your fault and you've apologised enough times." Blaise looked at her with clear concern; he was surprisingly sensitive for an eleven year old boy, "You shouldn't let her upset you, you know. You still have all of us."

Maia nodded, "I know, but she keeps saying that I shouldn't be friends with all of you. She seems to think you're all _bad news_ or something. I don't get it, she acts like you're all evil, when you're one of the nicest people I know, Blaise. You're always making sure we're all happy and cheering people up when they're grumpy or homesick or something."

Blaise shrugged and smiled sheepishly, "Well, I didn't know anyone my own age before I got here, I can hardly be mean to you all can I? Then where would I be?" He paused and added rather awkwardly, "Besides, I get lonely at home, mum's never around, and I don't want to be lonely here as well and I don't like it when other people are lonely. I know how it feels."

Tracey shook his arm warmly and Maia turned to her, "And you too, you and Daphne would never hurt a fly, unless you wanted to give it a make-over." And then she turned to Draco, "And I know you're completely stuck-up and arrogant, but you're still my cousin and my best friend."

Draco laughed, "And your partner in crime and the leader of us all?"

Maia stuck out her tongue, "Why do you get to be the leader?"

Blaise rolled his eyes, "I get the impression Draco has always been, and always will be, the leader, regardless of what we want."

Draco laughed and leant forwards, "Good, now that we've got that settled, as leader, I have something to put to you all, that Maia and I were discussing before you turned up and started talking about random mudbloods. We're going to get the Weasleys..."

He rubbed his hands with glee and Tracey and Daphne shared a cruel smirk. Blaise rolled his eyes but leant forwards to listen anyway, while Maia sat back in her armchair and tucked her legs up under her. The warmth of the fire was comforting and she felt truly happy, for the first time in days, now that she was surrounded by her friends. She'd put Granger behind her. She wasn't worth her trouble.

...

In the end, it was a co-ordinated effort. They all learnt hair-dye charms, but as there were seven of them and only four Weasleys Vincent, Gregory and Blaise acted as look outs because they were the weakest at casting the spells. The rest of them, having plotted and tracked the morning movements of each of the four Weasleys, lay in wait the following Monday before breakfast. Tracey and Daphne hid together and hit each of the twins as they left the boys toilets of the first floor. Draco was waiting in a windowsill next to the library, and got Percy the prefect as he left after some early morning studying. Maia was waiting by the double doors that led into the Great Hall and got Ron from behind.

So, it was only when the four red-heads entered the hall, and when they were greeted with peals of laughter, that they realised their hair was Slytherin green.

The spells were so strong that Madam Pomfrey had to Vanish all their hair and make them take hair-replenishing potion, in order their normal hair colour to return.

It was the perfect prank.

They weren't even caught.

They weren't even suspected.

Who would have expected such skill from a bunch of snooty, stuck-up Slytherin first-years?

...

**Thank you for all the reviews – I can't believe that I've passed sixty!**

**Thank you to the very kind people who've reviewed every chapter (you know who you are!) and I'm sorry that I didn't answer the question about the troll and friendship, but I didn't know how to answer without giving the game away. Sorry if this wasn't the result you wanted, but I want any friendships formed to be convincing. Character development is going to be a long game in this story... : ) I hope you don't mind my missing out the Halloween Dinner, but as the Slytherins were separate from the Gryffindors at the time, it was a bit of a non-event for Maia, and I wanted to keep it moving towards the exciting stuff that's going to happen later!**

**Also, thank you to the person who leaves lovely long reviews. I'm so pleased to know that you feel I've got the characters right. I can't promise you much Neville in the near future, but he's going to get much more of a look-in later than he did in the books. **


	26. For Every Smile There Is A Tear

**I still don't own Harry Potter. This is quite a long, busy chapter, so I hope you enjoy it!**

Chapter Twenty Six

The grounds surrounding Hogwarts were soon covered in a fine dusting of snow and the students walked a little faster around the castle, not because they had discovered their previously unknown love of learning, but simply because those who dawdled in the corridors found that their limbs were prone to numbness and freezing.

In the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey was rushed off her feet with students who were catching all manner of coughs and sneezes and for the first time in her life Maia experienced chilblains. Her delicate (although Aunt Cassiopeia would have said aristocratic) hands were covered in painful red sores. A rather flustered Madam Pomfrey gave her some cream, before running back to calm a muggleborn terrified after their first experience with Pepper-Up Potion.

A rather disgruntled Maia Black stalked out of the ward, thinking of the rather pathetic letter she had sent home complaining about the cold and the chilblains to her mother the night before. While she was rather embarrassed by the childishness of the act now, she could at least console herself with the compassionate letter and pile of goodies that were sure to arrive in the morning post. That did nothing about the sores on her hands though. Her fees paid that woman's wages!

Wrapping her cloak tightly around her, Maia started to make her way back to the Common Room, and pretended not to notice when she saw Bertram Nott and Queenie Greengrass sneak into an empty classroom together, holding hands and giggling. She made a mental note to tell Daphne when she next saw her, just to see her reaction.

Maia was surprised how quickly the term had passed. She was doing well in all her classes. She was the top Slytherin in her year and she, Hermione and a handful of Ravenclaws were battling it out for the title of 'top student'. Maia had a sense that Hermione would win, not by the fact that she had Seen anything, but simply because Hermione was now firmly established as Harry Potter's other best friend, as the delightful muggleborn who could therefore be used to disprove all muggleborn prejudice and as the unrelenting goody-two-shoes of all the other first-years.

Of course, she knew that the fact Hermione was muggleborn had nothing to do with her magical abilities - that made no difference - but it still frustrated her that she would be deliberately elevated just to prove a point. It was exactly the same as Draco had explained to her about the Weasley's in the Ministry. When she was honest, she knew that Hermione deserved to be the top student purely through her hard work and dedication, but Maia's pride was wounded and that was the end of the matter. She couldn't help but be bitter against the girl who had refused her apologies and now wanted nothing to do with her. She was little better than a fickle muggle, when all was said and done on the matter. Sometimes Maia wondered if she was as bad and prejudiced as Draco, but she decided that she didn't care, at least not when it came to Hermione Granger.

She could hear voices carrying along the corridors, which she recognised as Potter, Weasley and Hermione. They were nattering about some wizard called Nicholas Flamel. She turned the corner and came face-to-face with them. For the first time, she felt oddly exposed and outnumbered. This was also the first time she and Hermione had really been together since they had argued on the staircase.

She clenched her stomach and remembered that she must, at all times, and in all situations, be a good representative for the House of Black, "Good evening, were you in the library?" She asked.

"What's it to you?" snapped Weasley, "Were you eavesdropping?"

Maia fought the urge to roll her eyes, and settled for raising an eyebrow, "Don't be so vulgar. If I heard you, it's simply because your voices were carrying along the corridor."

Weasley looked mutinous and Potter, who Maia was distinctly less disposed to like now that he had helped to turn her friend's head against her and persisted in assuming the worst in all Slytherins, narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What are you doing here anyway? It's getting late."

Maia held up her hands, "Chilblains. I went to see Madam Pomfrey. I can't wait to go home at the end of the week, back to somewhere warm, can you?"

"I'm spending the holidays here."

"Oh" said Maia, not sure why anyone would choose not to go home for Christmas. "Well, I hope you all have lovely holidays anyway."

Hermione shrugged and shifted the weight of the books in her arms, "Come on, it's freezing here, let's get back to the Common Room."

They started to pass Maia. "Merry Christmas" she said, more awkwardly than she had ever said anything since Aunt Cassiopeia's rhetoric and elocution lessons.

Weasley said nothing, but both Potter and Hermione replied with the same, and then they disappeared round the corner and Maia hurried back to her own Common Room, thinking only of the seat by the fire Draco had promised to save her, horrified that anyone of their group had come down with the indignity of chilblains in this horrid, backwards castle.

...

Maia rubbed her hands, which were already in her thick woollen gloves, and blew on them, but it just made them feel as though they were burning.

Draco looked over, "Are they still bothering you?"

"Yes, and Pomfrey's cream did nothing."

Blaise frowned, "I'm sure your aunt will fix them for you straight away. They did look sore last night." He passed her a slab on Honeydukes chocolate, "Here, I got sent this from home the other day, it'll help with the pain."

Maia mumbled her thanks, knowing that Blaise really was a good friend to her, and stared out the window and she ate her way through the bar. It didn't stop the pain, but it soothed it slightly and calmed her urge to scratch her skin until it bled. She was sure that if anyone other than that idiot were in charge of the school, they would ensure the grounds were properly warm. Surely that was what magic was for?

Eventually, the train rolled into Kings Cross station. Dragging her trunk behind her, which was much lighter this time as she had simply left most of her books behind, she crossed the platform and found her mother and Aunt Cassiopeia waiting for her. Caroline hugged her tightly and held her at arm's length.

"I have missed you so much, darling. I'm sure you've grown since you left!"

Cassiopeia nodded stiffly but smiled indulgently in greeting. Maia looked around to see Draco being fussed over by Aunt Narcissa, whilst Blaise was met by a house elf. Tracey and Daphne were both being collected together by Mrs. Davis as they were going to visit to Alps together for the first week of the holidays.

Maia looked around, "Where's father? Is he waiting with the car?"

Caroline frowned momentarily and then smiled, "No, he's just come down with a cold. He wanted to come but Trixie practically ordered him to bed herself and has been feeding him up with stews and Pepper-Up Potions for the last few days. She won't let him escape." Maia laughed, knowing full well that Trixie took nursing very seriously. She still shuddered to think of the death-by-love treatment she suffered at her hands through most of her childhood illnesses.

"Oh dear, I hope he feels better before the celebrations start. How are we getting back?"

Please not side-along apparition, please not side-along apparition...

"I'm taking your trunk back to the house with the Floo, and Cassiopeia will be taking you by side-along apparition."

Great, she thought.

...

As predicted, her mother and father (who was up and about when she got home, though Trixie followed resolutely behind him, protesting loudly that he ought to be in bed) fussed over her chilblains and Aunt Cassiopeia produced a much more effective cream, which had her chilblains cleared up within two days.

During a brilliant dinner that evening though, where she told them all about school and her friends and her lessons, and thanked Aunt Cassiopeia again for the inkwell, she was very happy to be told their plans for the holidays. Aunt Cassiopeia would be staying with them for the duration. They would spend the first week at home as a family, but would go to Malfoy Manor on Christmas Eve and celebrate Christmas (although Aunt Cassiopeia and the Malfoys called it Yule) there. New Year would be spent with the Macmillan family, who were going to host a lavish 'do' for just about everyone who was anyone in wizarding Britain.

That night, as Maia curled up in her (mercifully warm) bed, she hugged herself tightly to think how fantastic this holiday would be. She would have her homework finished within a few days, would spend Yule (she decided that now she was a Hogwarts student, she would start saying Yule like a witch) with her favourite cousin and would get a mound of presents, and would finally get to catch up with Ernie at New Years because she had barely seen him whilst they were in school.

Yes, she thought, as sleep overcame her, it was going to be the best Yule ever.

...

Maia was doing her homework alone in the library a few days later, as Marius and Caroline had informed her that morning that they were going into town to see their Harley Street doctor. Marius was still feeling under the weather from his winter bug, and was reluctant to take up Aunt Cassiopeia's repeated suggestions he visit St Mungos. Maia was almost finished when the older woman suddenly appeared next to her, and reached across and picked up her History of Magic essay.

"Factually correct with a thought-out argument, but overall rather dull. It doesn't contain your usual flair." She pronounced.

Maia shrugged, "Professor Binns won't notice. He makes history ridiculously boring, Aunt Cassiopeia."

"Don't shrug. It's unbecoming to a young witch of your station. You've been spending too much time with mudbloods, Maia. You're picking up uncouth mannerisms."

"Hardly, Aunt Cassiopeia, most of them won't speak to me."

"Well, that's their own loss, and don't let Binns destroy your interest in history, or I shall institute remedial summer classes."

"Yes, Aunt Cassiopeia."

"Good. Now, I looked into that Parkinson _creature_ for you." She arched her eyebrow expectantly and Maia thanked her, dubiously wondering why her aunt would do such a thing in the first place.

"It may interest you to know that for all her talk, her father was a muggle. Her mother was a pureblood witch, a Brown in fact, which is hardly something to boast about in the first place. It seems that marriage was unsuccessful and that they separated a few years ago."

"I knew she was a half blood, I Saw it."

"Do you plan to confront her with the information? Have you planned any form of revenge for her actions?"

Maia stifled a laugh, knowing that her aunt was deadly serious. "She knows that I am aware. I see no point in lowering myself to revenge, she isn't even worth the effort. It's beneath me to care about her blood status, or about anything else related to her existence."

"She shamed and bad-mouth the House of Black!" Aunt Cassiopeia cried, scandalised.

"And she's a petty bully who looks like a pug. She's stopped bullying me and spent every evening this term cleaning toilets by hand, I simply don't care about her enough to get revenge anymore."

Aunt Cassiopeia muttered something that seemed to include the words, 'soft', 'Hufflepuff-esque' and 'overly sentimental' as she left the room.

Maia said nothing, knowing full well that Aunt Cassiopeia doted on her enough that she would forget it by dinner if she said something to please her over afternoon tea.

...

Yule morning rolled around, with a crisp layer of frost covering the expansive grounds of Malfoy Manor. The peacocks had retreated to their enclosure for safety, huddled closely together, while the Blacks and the Malfoys awoke to find the house brimming with freshly cut holly and ivy draping the furniture, with glittering fairies dancing overhead, and a large Yule log burning slowly in each of the warming fireplaces for luck.

The morning began with each member of the house descending the grand staircase, arrayed in their finest dress robes (expect for Caroline and Marius who remained in their customary muggle attire, much to the indignation of Lucius). They made their way into the dining room to find the table prepared already, with porridge and all the trimmings of a full English breakfast laid out waiting for them.

After everyone was full, they went into the main sitting room, where the presents were laid out under an eight foot, heavily decorated Yule tree. Lucius and Narcissa took their places on one sofa, whilst Marius and Caroline sat opposite them. Aunt Cassiopeia settled herself into the large armchair nearest to the fireplace, from where she could observe the proceedings. Draco and Maia, being young and more interested in the mound of presents that anything else, settled themselves on the floor within easy reach of their spoils.

The two children beamed at their respective parents with identical, hopeful grins. Lucius inclined his head and the distribution of the presents began. Maia hunted out a present each for her Aunt Narcissa, Uncle Lucius and Draco, whilst Draco found gifts for each of her parents, herself and Aunt Cassiopeia. This routine continued for quite some time, whilst the adults remained seated and the children bought their gifts to them. Lucius regularly cast disdainful glances in the direction of his very unwelcome guests, but he had long since accepted that 'the blood-traitor Black girl' was now an established part of his social circle and would never leave, and so he was stuck with her unfortunate parents as well. Luckily, he had had enough time to come to turns with this and had finally mastered the art of disinterested civility. It was not in the interest of his family's prospective inheritance from the Black matriarch to insult anyone she chose favour, after all.

Although she was a cold woman, Narcissa was not, at heart, a cruel one. She was simply content to concern herself with her small circle of friends and her own little family, whilst presiding over her wealth and displaying her social status in public. So, in contrast to her husband, she had a genuine liking for Marius as one of her few remaining relatives on the right side of the Azkaban prison gate, and in Caroline had found a woman much after her own heart in terms of values and outlook, but who had opened her up to the concept of warmth and friendliness. Narcissa Malfoy was not a particularly easy woman to become friends with, but once the friendship was established, it was always a lively and cheerful one.

So, when Maia opened up a new set of dress robes from Aunt Narcissa, the two mothers fell into an easy discussion of the latest fashions (Caroline liked to keep up with magical fashions, looking forward to the day when she, Maia and Narcissa would trail around the various boutiques to fill Maia's wardrobe for when she came of age) and this, in turn, led to them planning what they (and Maia, because they were far more interested in the subject than her) would be wearing to the Macmillan's upcoming ball.

The distribution of presents took them all the way up until lunch time. When the pile of presents was finally at an end, and Maia and Draco had been suitably indulged and spoiled, Aunt Cassiopeia and Uncle Lucius shared a rare smile with each other and produced two final presents, in small leather boxes, which they presented to Maia and Draco respectively. Each box contained a goblin-wrought gold signet ring, each one engraved with the seal of either the House of Black or Malfoy.

Draco grinned. He had always known this day would come, of course, but it was a moment of glory for him nonetheless. His status in the wizarding world had risen just that little higher, and it was all the more reason for him to lord it other the other students when he got back to Hogwarts. Maia, on other hand, turned towards her Aunt Cassiopeia with her mouth ever-so-slightly open. Marius had clasped his hands together and looked as though he might burst for joy. It was clear that he had not known this would happen. Maia wondered if he would cry.

"Close your mouth, Maia Violetta, or are you so hungry you want to catch flies?" Said Cassiopeia, with a lenient smile. She had been looking forward to this moment ever since she realised that Maia was a pureblood, which had made the decision itself so much easier.

Maia closed her mouth immediately.

"Well, put it on." Aunt Cassiopeia continued, nodding encouragingly.

Maia looked over at Draco who was already wearing his proudly and smiling at her so widely, she thought his cheeks might burst.

She placed the ring on the little finger of her right hand. It glowed slightly as she placed it there. "Really?" She asked, her voice uncharacteristically small.

"Yes. I have, as the acting Head of the House of Black while the other members are... indisposed, officially named you as the Heir. The paperwork is entirely filled out, it's fully settled."

"I thought you would give it to Draco."

Out of the corner of her eye, Maia saw that this had been Uncle Lucius' most desired course of action.

"Your Uncle Lucius and I have already discussed this. Of course, Draco will receive a significant inheritance through the House of Black, but you are the last member to bear the name and Draco will already be Head of one House. I'm sure two would turn his head entirely. And, in cases such as this, when there are only cousins and no direct Heir," though of course, thought Cassiopeia, this should go to Maia on the technicalities anyway, as she was the daughter of the real Head, Sirius Orion Black, but that wasn't an issue they could really bring into play, "the acting Head can make a choice."

"But I'm not a pureblood."

"That's neither here nor there now that the legalities and technicalities have been formalised." And wouldn't be an issue for the blood wards on the inheritance details anyway, thought Cassiopeia to herself.

Maia looked back down at her ring.

"You still haven't said thank you, Maia." Her eldest aunt prompted.

"Thank you, Aunt Cassiopeia."

She looked back down at the delicate and beautiful ring, decided that her aunt was quite marvellous, and ran across the floor to hug her tightly. Aunt Cassiopeia patted her on the head awkwardly, uncomfortable with such open displays of emotion.

...

After another hearty lunch, they went Yule singing around the apple orchards of Malfoy Manor, wrapped up warmly in their various furs. Narcissa wore her new cloak, a gift from her husband, trimmed with ermine. Upon their return, they withdrew again to the sitting room, where the gentlemen (including Draco) busied themselves with a few games of chess. Much to Lucius' ire, he was beaten by the 'fundamentally inferior' Marius on all counts.

The ladies drank tea, compared and marvelled over their various gifts, and discussed the latest gossip, the latest fashions, and quizzed Maia about everything that was going on at Hogwarts.

Narcissa was dismayed that Binns and Peeves still blighted the lives of the students.

Cassiopeia was adamant that neither the teaching nor the curriculum were rigorous enough.

Caroline wanted to know why her poor daughter had had to suffer chilblains.

And Maia wanted to know why she had to put up with the likes of the Weasleys, and received plenty of sympathy from her two aunts and her mother. Caroline then wanted to know why the wizarding world did not have separate 'elite' schools for its children, as the muggle world did. This was a rare occasion where Narcissa and Cassiopeia declared that there was clearly something the magical world could learn from its muggle counter-part, once Caroline had explained the complexities of muggle education.

The family then split up to dress for the formal Yule dinner, and returned an hour later to enjoy Yule boar, with all the trimmings. The Christmas pudding was richly spiced and the butterbeer cream accompaniment was delicious. Maia found a sickle in her slice, whilst Draco found a knut and Lucius smiled when he received the galleon. Each of them made their wish and Lucius jokingly (he had had enough elfin wine for his civility to have reached the realms of cheerfulness by this point) asked if she could See whose wishes would come true. Marius laughed heartily, whilst refusing seconds of the red meat claiming he had to start watching what he ate at his age, and Maia declined to comment with a mischievous smile.

After a round of coffee, chocolates and mints they retired to the drawing room with the piano to sing more Yule songs. Maia played at the instrument, her hands dancing over the keys, whilst she sang along, glad that this was the one day of the year Aunt Cassiopeia was unlikely to bemoan her less than perfect pitch.

They then played charades until late into the night and by the time Maia finally got to rest her head on her pillow, it was far later than she had even realised. She curled up and looked at the ring resting on her finger. It was charmed so that it would always fit her perfectly and comfortably. She watched as the moonlight reflected from it and smiled to herself. She could see the future now before her, stretching out beautifully. She and Draco would graduate from Hogwarts. Perhaps they would be Head Boy and Girl together. Draco would go into the Ministry, of course, while she might establish herself in some field of research. They would, of course, be well respected and sources of authority. They would organise their votes in the Wizangamot together, plan the businesses of their Houses together. They would be the very best of friends and would take the wizarding world together by storm, laughing all the way. They would make their families proud and it would all be simply wonderful.

...

On a dark island rock, Sirius Black transformed back into his animagus form, having devoured the only truly satisfying meal he would receive all year. A real Yule dinner was the only concession of kindness made to the Azkaban inmates, although the majority were too far gone to enjoy it after a year or two.

Bella hadn't stopped her cackling all day.

He curled up in a small ball and closed his eyes. Without even thinking, his mantra began all over again.

I'm innocent.

I'm innocent.

I'm innocent.

It was the one thought they couldn't take from him.

He wondered how Annie, Harry and Remus would be spending Yule this year. He hoped that Remus would have access to his vault, to give them the Yule they deserved. Though if he knew Remus, and he did know Remus, he would refuse to touch the blood money of the House of Black. It made him a little sadder than usual to think that his daughter, and his godson, might be going without. He had always planned to spoil them both. Perhaps it wasn't so bad, at least they were being raised properly. Annie's childhood wouldn't be blighted by insane blood-purists. Remus would make sure that she and Harry were both happy, they didn't need to be rich or spoiled. They only needed to be safe and warm and happy.

Then he remembered that Annie was dead and he started to cry and cry and cry some more.

A Dememtor slid past and his thoughts drifted towards his own memories of Yule from home.

They were not happy memories.

He remembered screaming rows, stiff formalities and parents who glared at their children over the dining table.

He remembered his father's cane.

He remembered crying.

He remembered Annie's first Yule.

And he imagined her dying.

He remembered Marlene's funeral.

He remembered Pettigrew's gloating face.

He remembered the rat running away, lost forever.

Bella cackled.

He returned resolutely to his mantra, because it was still better than the misery of insanity.

I'm innocent.

I'm innocent.

I'm innocent.

...

**A/N – Thank you again for all the reviews, comments and constructive criticism are always welcome. I'm not sure how long this will be exactly – I've written as far as Chapter 37, which is the start of Second Year, so I'll estimate about 10 chapters per Hogwarts year, but I can't vouch for that as some chapters will be longer than others. **


	27. His Best Girl

**I still don't own Harry Potter**

Chapter Twenty Seven

The following day Maia and Draco were playing a rather loud and blood-thirsty game of wizard's chess.

"Hah, I took your Rook!"

A shadow fell over them, and both children looked up. Draco leapt to his feet quickly and stood before his father, his head inclined towards the floor and his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

Maia raised an eyebrow at the suddenness and formality of the gesture within the family home, but stood and dipped into a small curtsey.

Lucius Malfoy, his long silver hair gracefully groomed and tumbling over his shoulders, arched his neck and eyed them closely.

"Good morning, father." Draco bowed.

Maia said nothing, inwardly annoyed that Uncle Lucius had interrupted their game when she was finally about to re-gain her advantage. He had been reasonably cheerful, by his standards, the day before. It was a shame he had reverted to type already; the holiday wasn't really over.

"Is this behaviour acceptable, Draco?" Lucius' voice drawled slowly and elegantly.

Draco made no response.

"I would have expected better of you, than to behave so childishly."

"I'm sorry, father."

"If you are so weak as to wish spend while away your hours playing silly little games, you ought to at least sit at a table, not splay yourself over the floor like a muggle or a mudblood, and you ought to engage in _conversation_ and _discourse,_ not ridiculous cries and shouts."

"Yes, father."

"You ought to listen to me, as well, Maia."

Maia dropped into a curtsey automatically on being addressed. "Yes, Uncle Lucius."

Lucius Malfoy turned on his heel and walked out the door, his cane tapped a steady beat along the hallway until it finally faded away.

"Promise you won't leave me alone today, Maia, promise?"

"Why?"

"Just promise."

She shook her head, confused, but answered quickly "I promise."

...

It was New Year Eve. Maia's scalp hurt where her mother had pulled the comb through her hair so many times to make sure it was glossy. It hung loose, falling past her waist. She was wearing the new dress robes Aunt Narcissa had given her. They were a deep green velvet with wide sleeves and fiddly buttons. She looked like a Slytherin mascot, but everyone else seemed to think that this was wonderful.

She was definitely on display.

She saw her aunt waltzing with her father, whilst her mother and Aunt Narcissa sat talking to each other in the corner. She could see Aunt Irma, standing with her Crabbe relatives, glaring at her from across the room. She must have heard about the signet ring.

She carefully picked her way through the crowd before beaming at the sight of Ernie standing on his own. He waved when she caught his eye and she hurried over (as elegantly and as maturely as possible) to join him.

"Good evening, cousin Maia." Said Ernie proudly, puffing out his chest and bowing.

Maia stifled a giggle, knowing that was the last thing she ought to do at a function such as this, "Good evening, cousin Ernie. Thank you for extending the invitation to my family."

"The evening would not be the same without you."

"You are too kind."

They smiled at each other. No one was looking in their direction at the moment.

"I missed you at Hogwarts. Are you alright in Hufflepuff?"

Ernie rubbed his hands together, "It's marvellous. I was a little concerned at first, of course, but I'm getting on splendidly. We've got a great bunch of chaps in my dorm. Are you alright in Slytherin?"

"Of course, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

"I was concerned, especially about Parkinson."

"Pansy Parkinson is little more than filth, as far as I'm concerned, and utterly beneath my notice." She answered, her voice cold. She had finally mastered Aunt Cassiopeia's tone of icy indifference to the existence of others. She was quite proud of herself.

Ernie shifted his weight, "Well, I am pleased that you aren't unhappy."

A sandy-haired boy appeared behind Ernie and Maia actually wanted to groan. It was Finch-Fletchley. What on earth was he doing here? Then, with a sinking feeling, she realised that Ernie had made a friend out of him. Why? He was so inconceivably stupid.

Ernie grinned when he joined them, "Maia, may I introduce to you my house mate, Justin Albert Finch-Fletchley? Justin, this is my cousin, Maia Violetta Black."

Justin held out his hand, which Maia resolutely ignored, and dropped into a perfectly acceptable curtsey. She stood, "I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance."

Justin frowned for a second and let out a sudden laugh, "Goodness!" he said, clapping Ernie on the back, "What a dunderhead I am! I completely forgot." He bowed smartly to Maia, "The pleasure is mine entirely." He smiled brightly at her, and she inclined her head. He really was as thick as two short planks, though else what could one expect from such as him?

"Albert is a very odd name."

Justin smiled, "I find that you old families here have very odd names as well. Violetta is lovely, as is Maia, of course, but I've never come across either. My grandfather was Albert, he was an Admiral during the war. I'm named for him, though it's an older family name as well, of course."

"What's an Admiral?"

Ernie laughed, "Maia, your mother's a muggle!"

Maia arched an eyebrow, "I was educated with you. I only really know the wizarding world."

Justin continued to smile in a good-natured way that Maia found inexplicably infuriating. Everything about this stupid boy seemed to annoy her and she simply wanted to go and find Draco. "An Admirals a leader, in the military... Similar to the army, although the Royal Navy fought at sea... in ships... It's a very important job." He finished, hopefully.

"You must be very proud of him." She said, as politely as she could.

Ernie smiled at both of them in turn, "Justin has explained to me that it makes him similar to the Head of the Auror Office, or a high rank in that department."

Justin's smile got even wider "I knew there was a better was to explain t! I am very proud of him, naturally. Where does the name Maia come from? If you don't mind my asking."

"It's a star from the Taurus constellation. Don't you listen in Astronomy?"

Ernie laughed, "Steady on, Maia, we haven't all inherited the Black obsession!"

Justin shrugged and laughed easily again. "It's not my strongest subject, I'm afraid."

Why wouldn't this boy get annoyed or offended? She was doing her best to blatantly, yet subtlety, offend him. And he didn't even realise!

"If you'll excuse me, I must find Draco."

She turned to walk away and seethed when she heard the last words of their conversation before their voices were lost to the crowd.

"_I am sorry, I hope she didn't upset you, Justin, old chap."_

"_Oh, not at all. It must be rather hard for her, being in Slytherin."_

"_Yes, she has had some trouble."_

"_You can hardly blame her for acting like them. You can hardly blame a girl for looking out for her own neck in a place like that... I saw her talking to Hermione Granger on the train and she was lovely then, poor thing." _

Luckily, she found Draco soon enough and they pleased all their families by waltzing beautifully together. After that, they made their way to the far corner where their own group of Slytherin friends had congregated.

Daphne looked traumatised, whilst both Tracey and Blaise had covered their hands with their mouths and were doing their best to look sympathetic.

"What's wrong?" said Draco, looking at each of them in turn.

Tracey removed her hand and burst out giggling. Blaise swallowed hard and continued, "Daphne's traumatised."

"You don't say?" He answered drily.

"We were going to get some fresh air and we caught Bertram and Queenie making out rather... enthusiastically."

Maia laughed, glad for the distraction from Fletchley "But we knew that already?"

Daphne shook her head, "It's one thing to know, it's something else entirely to _see_."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Well, I have something that's actually interesting to tell you."

"Go on." Said Blaise.

"Guess who was struck off the guest list this year?"

"Who?"

"The Bulstrodes."

"Really?"

Draco nodded, pleased to have all of their rapt attention. "Yes, the _whole_ House." He ran a hand through his hair so that his new signet ring caught the light and reflected it. He was pleased when they all noticed and looked suitably impressed. "Yes, I made a few enquires and it transpires that the Macmillans were not pleased with Milicent's treatment of our darling Maia, so didn't invite them. The Parkinsons have never been invited, of course."

"Are you certain?" Said Maia, wishing she had behaved herself better in front of Ernie. He had cut a family from his social circle on her account, and she had been abominably rude to his _personal_ guest. She was rightfully embarrassed. She had shown terrible ill-breeding.

"Absolutely."

The rest of the evening was spent by them in the corner, eating the best of the food and dancing whenever they felt like making their relatives simper over them. Maia discovered that Blaise was an even better dancer than Draco and decided to ignore her guilt and deal with the issue in the morning.

They managed to squeeze their way to the front of the crowd as the clock began to strike midnight – Maia saw Ernie and Fletchley on the opposite side of the crowd and forced herself to smile at them – and watched as the hired actors played out the passing of Old Father Time.

The midnight bells began to chime and Maia grinned as Draco clasped one of her hands tightly whilst Blaise squeezed the other. They laughed as they sang so loudly they were shouting as the voices of the gathered witches, wizards, friends and families filled the air.

_And for auld lang syne, my dear,__  
><em>_For auld lang syne,__  
><em>_We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,__  
><em>_For auld lang syne,___

_Should auld acquaintance be forgot,__  
><em>_And never brought to mind?__  
><em>_Should auld acquaintance be forgot,__  
><em>_And days o' auld lang syne.___

_And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp!__  
><em>_And surely I'll be mine!__  
><em>_And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,__  
><em>_For auld lang syne.___

_We twa hae run about the braes__  
><em>_And pu'd the gowans fine;__  
><em>_But we've wander'd mony a weary foot__  
><em>_Sin auld lang syne._

___We twa hae paidl'd i' the burn,__  
><em>_Frae mornin' sun till dine;__  
><em>_But seas between us braid hae roar'd__  
><em>_Sin auld lang syne._

___And there's a hand, my trusty fiere!__  
><em>_And gie's a hand o' thine!__  
><em>_And we'll tak a right guid willy waught,__  
><em>_For auld lang syne._

_And for auld lang syne, my dear,__  
><em>_For auld lang syne,__  
><em>_We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,__  
><em>_For auld lang syne,_

As the ringing of the bells began to fade away Maia was so happy she thought she might burst as she and her friends flung their arms around each other in turn. Marius darted across the room scooped her up into his arms and hugged her fiercely, calling her 'his best girl'. 

...

**A/N – Obviously, I do not own Auld Lang Syne. It was written by Robert Burns in the 1700s but is traditionally sung at midnight on New Year's Eve in Britain (and in other English-speaking countries, I think?). **

**Also, sorry that this chapter is slightly shorter, but the next one is a much better length. **


	28. Slytherin's Princess

**I still don't own Harry Potter**

Chapter Twenty Eight

The next morning, Maia awoke tiredly at home, but dragged herself out of bed and into the library. She hadn't read any of her family's muggle books in ages and found it oddly disconcerting that none of the images moved. However, she persevered and found the volumes she was looking for, reading up on the history of the Royal Navy. Then, she went down to the kitchens and asked Trixie if she had any of her famous shortbread which could be wrapped up for her to send as a gift. Of course, Trixie promised to have a fresh batch made for and delivered to Miss Maia within the hour, ready for delivery.

Then, she went back to the library and smoothed out the parchment before her. She dipped her quill into the inkwell and began to write.

She would have to be gracious and word herself carefully. Perhaps, in future, she could simply ignore the Fletchley creature.

_Dear Ernie,_

_Thank you ever so much for inviting me to the ball last night. I had a wonderful evening and couldn't imagine a better way to see in the New Year, with all my family and friends. I think that my evening could only have been better if I had spent more time with you. I have missed you frightfully this year, now that I think about it. I feel as if our little group has lost its ray of sunshine. It was lovely to meet your friend, Justin Finch-Fletchley. He is a true Hufflepuff; friendly and cheerful. _

_Anyway, as a thank you, I have sent a basket of our best, freshly baked shortbread, which I hope that you will both enjoy._

_Your loyal cousin,_

_Maia Violetta Black._

...

Maia was curled up in Aunt Cassiopeia's library a few days later, feeling rather put out. She'd recently received Ernie's reply. He and Justin had been very enthusiastic in their receipt of her letter and had gone so far as to suggest that she sit with them – the _Hufflepuffs_ – on the return journey to Hogwarts in a few days time.

She was _a Slytherin_.

While she had entered Hogwarts with the intention of having friends in all the different Houses, her experience of the school so far had convinced her that this was an aim she could not fulfil. There was simply too much House rivalry, and too much general hatred of Slytherin. The Weasel had made that perfectly clear, has had Granger's and Potter's willingness to follow him blindly.

It was abundantly clear that the rest of the school hated Slytherins on sight and on principle as well, so any friendships she cultivated with other Houses would always be tenuous. As a person, she preferred loyalty. Of course, she would always be friends with Ernie – he was family – but that was as far as it could ever go outside of Slytherin, she was sure. Also, because of the aforementioned hatred, any friendships outside of Slytherin would reflect badly upon her, and make her a questionable member within her own House. She had been on the end of enough bile over the last term to firstly value the Slytherin friendships she had all the more, and to secondly wish to cement her current position and popularity further.

Although she knew that she could always count on the friends she had, on Draco and Daphne and Blaise and Tracey and even Vincet and Gregory, she no longer wanted to feel weak and reliant. It was no longer enough to know that she would have back-up. She wanted to be at the front. She wanted to support herself, defend herself and, more importantly, make sure that nobody, Slytherin or otherwise, dared to cross her. She had no intention of being some pathetic playground bully, but she was now that Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. She looked down at her ring. When she had just been little Maia Black, she had let Holly and Rosie walk all over her, and let those muggle boys kick and punch her, and had had to be rescued from a werewolf and had had Parkinson spit poison at her. She couldn't ever be seen as some sort of victim any more, not now. She was going to be one of the most powerful and influential women in the wizarding world. She had to make sure Aunt Cassiopeia never regretted naming her heir, or gave her family cause for concern.

It was time to be proactive.

When she considered her position so far, she knew her position was advantageous. As Draco's favourite cousin, she was doing well on two fronts. Sheer force of personality (or perhaps belligerence) had established Draco as the leader of the Slytherin first years. This counted for something with the rest of the years as well, and his standing would only progress as the years went by. In addition, Draco carried the Malfoy name. He came with a legacy and a vat of wealth and connections.

The Black family was one of the few who could equal the Malfoys on that front.

It did not take her long to reason, that should she make it her aim, she could see herself as the Slytherin Princess, at least among the first years, by the end of the year. She would be the Princess of the Common Room by the time she was in her fifth year. She would never have trouble with Parkinson again. Granger would seriously regret offending and rejecting her and the Weasel would learn to shut his trap.

She smiled to herself, satisfied that by smiling at the right people, glaring at the relevant ones, throwing around the family name and making a few witty remarks in the right places, she could achieve her aim. She was sure, that if she forced herself, she could turn a blind eye when Draco called people 'mudbloods'. The worst that could happen would be that Daphne – through her own name and insane beauty that could only come from a Veela in the family, Maia was sure – she would be second place. But even second place, she reasoned, would make her untouchable.

Turning back to her book, she studied the Runes more closely than before. She heard the library door open and close and smiled when she saw her Aunt Cassiopeia walk in the room. She carefully placed her book to the side and stood (rather than jumped like Draco) to greet her aunt. "Good afternoon, Aunt Cassiopeia, do you need me for anything?"

Her aunt smiled approvingly in return, "Not at all, Maia. I merely came to find the family book of hexes. We have quite a collection unique to the Black family, I shall teach you over the summer."

"Thank you." Maia grinned, it would be a brilliant summer if she found a hex that would get the Weasel. She couldn't wait until she had mastered human transfiguration...

"What have you been up to, in here all on your own?"

Maia smiled innocently, "I've been planning, Aunt Cassiopeia."

"Oh?" Said her aunt, arching an eyebrow the same way she had trained Maia to do, "And what have you been planning?"

"I have decided that Draco and I shall rule Slytherin House by the time we graduate."

"I highly doubt that will be a difficult aim to accomplish." Maia was truly everything she could have ever hoped for in an heir, in a niece. She dreaded to imagine how she would have turned out had Marius and Caroline been left to their own devices. Though she conceded that the result may not have been too awful, Marius would have instilled enough House pride in her to ensure that she was always respectable. Yet if that filthy half-breed werewolf had had his way, she would no doubt be running around, dressed like a muggle and playing with mudbloods when she ought to be improving herself and her standing. Maia was going to be brilliant, alongside Draco of course. There was the disadvantage of her birth, or supposed birth, but her status as heir should counteract that with the clear support of the Malfoy family.

"I agree entirely."

...

Marius hugged her tightly before letting her board the train. He had been back in bed with his cold for the day before she went back to Hogwarts, but insisted that he was there to watch her leave. She followed Draco through the corridors, only pausing when she saw Ernie and Justin chatting in their compartment. Ernie looked up and waved her in.

Draco turned to her, "Do you still want to visit Ernie? I'll save you a seat but I'm not joining you. I value my reputation in Slytherin, you know, and he's sitting with mudbloods again."

Maia tossed her hair, "I'm sure I'll survive, Draco. Save me a seat for later."

"For when you want to return to civilisation?"

Draco grinned and carried along the carriageway. Maia felt a tinge of guilt, knowing that they must have been heard, but she forced it back down. She wasn't a Hufflepuff, she was a Slytherin and she had to look out for herself. It was called self-preservation and it came with the territory, after all.

Either way, she steeled herself to be polite in the face of Finch-Fletchley's stupidity, and any possible awkwardness in case they had heard Draco, and pulled back to doorway to the compartment.

Finch-Fletchley jumped to his seat and bowed, Ernie stood up smiling and bowed as well.

Finch-Fletchley beamed at her, "Good morning, and look, I remembered!"

Maia couldn't help but want to laugh at him, but smiled knowing that the poor boy was probably trying. She dropped into a small curtsey, "Good morning, do you mind if I join you?"

"Go ahead." Said Fletchley, gesturing towards the seat opposite. He leapt forwards to help her with her trunk as she dragged it through the door and remained standing until she had made herself comfortable on the opposite side of the compartment. Maia was rather impressed with his manners towards the end of it all. Ernie looked a little put out, but she knew why the moment Finch-Fletchley opened his mouth again.

"So, Maia, what was Draco talking about with 'mudbloods'? Ernie won't tell me and you seem to be quite the authority on all things magical."

Ernie glared at her and Maia had the good grace to blush. She deliberately looked out the window as she answered, "It's not a very nice word..." She paused, looking towards Ernie who was practically bursting with pompous, righteous indignation.

Ernie relented and finished for her, "It's a word for people who have muggle parents. It's very insulting. It means they have dirty blood, blood that's not good enough for magic."

Comprehension dawned on Justin's face, but his next sentence made her feel even worse. "Wait? That's not what Pansy Parkinson was calling you last term, was it? No one in the Common Room would repeat it then, either."

She shrugged delicately, "Yes, well, it's neither here nor there anymore. I'm sorry for Draco. I have tried to tell him it's a vulgar word-"

Ernie burst out, "Vulgar! It's barbaric, Maia! He was always a little awful, but I thought he'd get better at Hogwarts, not worse! Are Vincent and Gregory behaving like that as well? I'll have Great Aunt Melania Howler them if you say yes, she won't stand for it either! And you know her Howlers are the worst!"

Ernie stopped, having finally seemed to exhaust himself.

"Would you like me to leave?"

Justin leant forwards, breaking the tension by handing round chocolate frogs, "Of course not, don't be ridiculous. Here, have some chocolate and tell us all about your Christmas."

After twenty minutes of rather forced conversation, although Justin, having apparently no conception of social awkwardness, chatted away as if his life depended upon it, Maia returned to her friends in the Slytherin compartment and was pleased to find that Draco had saved her a seat.

...

The next day, whilst Maia did some extra reading in the library knowing that if Granger were going to beat her in all the exams she would at least ensure that she came second, the very same Granger stormed over to her desk. Her cheeks were flushed and her bushy hair bristled. Potter was nowhere to be seen, but the Weasel was laughing behind his hand and watching. Maia wondered how he even managed to find the library. She was under the impression that he wasn't aware of the concept.

"I heard what Malfoy said."

Maia rolled her eyes, "And what did Draco say? And, pray tell, what does it have to do with me?" There was a time when this conversation would have upset her, but Granger had thrown her friendship back in her face.

"I know what he called Justin _and _I know what it means." She hissed.

"So?"

"So? So? After all that Parkinson put you through last term? After all that, you're going to stand by and watch Malfoy do the same things? I thought you said you weren't like rest of your House? Are you completely lacking in a moral compass, Black?"

"So were still aren't back to first name basis then?"

"You ought to watch yourself, you're lucky Justin hasn't gone to Professor Sprout! I've half a mind to!"

"I wasn't the one who said it anyway, Draco did."

"You didn't contradict him!"

Maia kept her poker face, "I don't think Justin's a mudblood because of his family, if I ever would insult him it'll be because he has the intellect of a flobberworm. Moreover, I'm hardly responsible for Draco's actions and I don't feel the need to nag him about his diction at every possible term. Clearly, I'm not you. As for what Parkinson put me through last term, that's irrelevant. Furthermore, you may now seek to use our falling-out against me, but you were the one who refused to accept my apologies and your anger was, eventually, entirely unjustifiable. So if I have picked up a prejudice against muggleborns, you are the most likely cause. And if you want to make claims about 'the rest of my House', why don't you try and talk to someone other than me? Or do you not want to do that because then you'll find out that you're the only one full of prejudice?"

Granger stuck out her chin, "I can't believe I ever thought I liked you, you're foul and idiotic."

"It takes one to know one."

Granger made a noise that sounded an awful lot like 'humph' and flounced back to where the Weasel was trying to contain his glee and the unfolding drama.

...

Maia was, once again, offended by Granger's impudence. However, as a Slytherin, she didn't get cross, she got even. And, being a Slytherin, she had the perfect plan.

She would humiliate Granger.

Please Professor Snape.

Impress the rest of her Slytherin classmates.

Who would, in turn, ensure the rest of her House learnt of her success.

They all thought Granger was an insufferable know-it-all as well, after all.

Her chance came in double potions later that same week. The class (after the now ritual altercation between Draco, Vincent, Gregory, Potter and the Weasel) filed into the dungeon and Maia took her place next to Daphne, towards the back of the classroom. Granger, of course, was sat in the very front.

Professor Snape generally hated it when his students spoke, unless spoken to first. He hated raised hands, he hated calling out and he hated bushy-haired Gryffindor first-years who refused to realise this. His lessons generally started with a series of questions, which he asked them to answer, knowing full well the Gryffindors were too stupid to get right, and that the Slytherins could be trusted to remain silent until called upon. Hopefully, whoever he called upon would answer correctly, or at least politely. But most often, Granger would simply call out the answer whenever he looked towards the Gryffindors in a way that most teachers, for some unknown reason, found adorable.

Today started out little differently.

"Class, who can tell what colour a Bulgeye Potion is?"

Granger's hand shot in the air.

"Well, who am I going to have to ask?"

Granger was now waving her hand.

Snape looked around the room, preparing to choose his next victim, when Maia, with her back straight and ankles elegantly crossed, raised her hand in the air slowly, and as gracefully as she could. She'd practiced this pose in the mirror the night before, to ensure it was the opposite of Granger, and conveyed all the arrogance she could possibly muster. This carefully honed revenge was more satisfying than any prank. Cunning was far more satisfying that mischief, she decided.

Draco shot her a horrified look and signalled, slicing his neck with his hand, to stop immediately before Snape exploded.

However, as Maia had predicted, well, sincerely hoped, Snape smirked, knowing that this would infuriate Granger. "Miss Black, could you answer the question?"

"Yes, sir. The Bulgeye potion is emerald green, sir."

"Very good, Miss Black, I'm glad I can count on Slytherins, at least, to know what they're doing. Two points."

Maia smirked.

Granger looked seriously put out and glared at Maia for Snape's blatant favouritism.

Snape began to pace the front of the classroom. "What colour is the Draught of Peace?"

Predictably, Granger had stretched out in her seat, leaning forwards, desperate to answer this time.

Maia once again raised her hand, just as before, smirking directly at Granger who was watching her. Snape saw the look and smirked himself. "Miss Black?"

"It should be turquoise blue, sir."

"Exactly correct, two points to Slytherin."

If looks could kill, Maia would have died then and there, the way that Granger glared at her.

"How many drops of flobberworm mucus are required in the Wiggenweld Potion?"

As before, it was Maia who answered (seven drops) and earned a further two points for Slytherin. Her housemates, who had all been horrified and terrified at the start of the proceedings, were now nodding and smiling to her appreciatively. When Snape asked the next question, Draco also raised his hand and earned two more points. With the next question, Blaise, Daphne and Tracey also raised their hands. After a far longer period of questions than usual, Maia managed to win her house ten points, whilst Draco and Daphne managed eight and Blaise and Tracey six. Even Bulstrode and Parkinson had won three points each for their 'rapt attention' by the time Snape was finished.

Granger did not answer a single question.

And she looked furious.

...

Draco wasted no time relaying the story across the Common Room that evening, even staging a dramatic reconstruction for those who wanted to witness Granger's downfall first hand. Bertram Nott expressed his extreme pleasure (still smarting from the insult of a first year Gryffindor primly informing him that his quill was scratching too loudly in the library the previous day) and awarded Maia five points for her 'House spirit'.

Parkinson threw her dark looks from her place by the fireside, clearly trying to plot her downfall, but she was powerless to do anything in Maia's moment of glory.

...

Of course, Maia knew that she couldn't do that every lesson. Snape generally preferred silence and would not change that habit on her account, regardless of how much he disliked Granger. Yet she had made a name for herself in the Common Room, and that was what mattered the most.

Planning and baby steps.

Planning and baby steps.

And cunning above all else.

Like a Slytherin.

Like a Black.

So the question, then, was what should she do next?

...


	29. Revenge Is A Dish Best Served With Fire

**I still don't own Harry Potter**

Chapter Twenty Nine

Pansy Parkinson and Milicent Bulstrode sat in the Common Room whispering to each other, casting nervous glances at their more popular and prettier classmates; Tracey Davies, Daphne Greengrass and Maia Black. They watched as the three girls giggled and laughed, presumably at their expense, and then went back to their own game of magical chess.

To an extent, they supposed they deserved the way they were ostracised. They had made a clear error at the start of the year, and were now paying the price. Both came from 'degraded' lines of once prominent pureblood families. They had (and they had planned this together in advance) assumed that they could make friends and connections in Slytherin by playing on the purity of their blood and ingratiating themselves with 'good' families, such as the Malfoys and the Zabinis. It had backfired spectacularly when they had misjudged the fact that the old families clung together, even over issues of blood-purity in their own ranks. If you were in, you were in regardless. And Maia Black was definitely in.

And it didn't help that darling Maia Black could do no wrong. Perfect little Maia, who was loved by all the prefects and the rest of the older years because she won so many points, and who was loved by all the students with old names, or the students who wanted to climb the social ladder, because now she had a signet ring and was going to be the Black Heir, and who was loved by all the teachers because she was so sweet and polite and clever.

She'd even gotten away with the stunt in Snape's classroom a few weeks ago, the two girls thought bitterly. And now she'd made Malfoy love her even more by letting him declare 'open season' on Potter, Granger and Weasley, when she'd been trying to hold him back before.

Argh, groaned Pansy inwardly, she hated Maia Black _so much_.

"We ought to get our own back." She hissed.

"Like what?" said Milicent, rolling her eyes.

"I don't know, just something."

"Rather you than me. Malfoy set Crabbe and Goyle on Weasley after he made a snide remark about her father or mother or something. He had to spend the night in the Hospital Wing."

"Well, he wouldn't do that to us! We're Slytherins and the prefects wouldn't stand for it."

"If I remember correctly, they gave him points for it."

Pansy groaned again and shot another nasty look in Maia's direction. Tracey was playing with Maia's hair (which, when Pansy thought about it, was really the only pretty thing about her. Tracey and Daphne were _far_ better looking) whilst Maia placed out the Tarot cards in front of Daphne. The girls all giggled again.

Milicent shook her arm and bought her attention back to the game, "Stop looking over at them, they'll see you!"

"They don't care!"

"Yes they do, we'll just have to sit it out. At least we have each other."

Pansy shrugged and Milicent thought she could at least try and be more enthusiastic about their friendship, but moved another of her pawns along the board and tried not to think about it.

...

A few evenings later, after gloating loudly at dinner that she had come top of the class in the latest History of Magic essay just to see Granger snarl at her, Maia entered the Common Room.

"A point to Slytherin!" called Bertram as she climbed through the gap in the wall as it appeared (The password had just been changed to Epimetheus, Titan of afterthought and father of excuses).

"What for?" she said with a smile.

"After you beat that Gryffindor sycophant in the essay, she was fuming about it to Potter and Weasley in the library and _I_ got to tell her off!"

Bertram grinned as Queenie looked at him adoringly. Bertram was even worse than most Slytherins when it came to bearing a grudge, and as a prefect, he couldn't risk being caught hexing a first year. He'd probably been hoping for a day like this for weeks.

"Thank you."

She walked over to their fireplace (it had been disputed in the first term by some of the older years, but now that it had been claimed by two Heirs, they had backed off) where Draco was pacing in front of the fire. The chairs were full, so she perched on the arm of the sofa next to Daphne.

"Get up Vincent!" snapped Draco, "What do you think you're doing taking up a seat when Maia's standing?"

Vincent stood up immediately and Maia took his place, curling up where his bulk had left the leather wonderfully warm. The fireplace flickered, where the embers were dying.

Draco's eyes were bright and he was pacing the floor again, clearly bursting to tell them something, but waiting for the right moment.

"Oh spit it out, Draco." Said Maia, knowing that she was the only one who could get away with talking to him like that, expect for Blaise, perhaps, as the two had become very good friends and, as Draco had pointed out, Maia was 'still a girl' and men had to have men to talk to sometimes. Of course, Maia thought that was rather pompous and worthy of Ernie, but what could you expect of someone who was raised by Uncle Lucius?

"Not yet, I want everything to be in order first. I had to wait for you anyway, before I told the others, because you're going to love this!" He paused, looking at the fire and then to Daphne, who was shivering delicately. "House elf!" he called.

A house elf appeared and bowed low. "What can Minny do for young Master?"

"Stoke up the fire, my friends are cold, and bring us some hot chocolate."

The house elf bowed and, with a crack of her fingers, the fire place burst back to life.

"Thank you." Said Daphne and the Minny's ears wiggled with delight.

"Anything for pretty Mistress!" she said, before disappearing with another crack.

"Did you really just thank an elf?" said Draco incredulously.

Daphne nodded, "We aren't all as mean as you are to Dobby."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Dobby's useless, rude and insolent. We'd dismiss him if we could but he's been with us for too long. He knows too many family secrets."

Daphne shrugged. Maia did feel bad for the way the Malfoys treated Dobby, and he had always been polite enough to her, but she'd also seen the glares he'd given Draco and knew that she couldn't blame her cousin for disliking him. Dobby went out of his way to 'forget' to tell Draco messages from his family, or sought to 'misunderstand' orders.

Her thoughts were interrupted with another crack, and Minny stood before them, smiling broadly, and holding a giant tray of large mugs, filled with thick hot chocolate, topped with whipped cream, and sprinkled with flakes of Belgium chocolate and ever-lasting marshmallows. The rest of the common room looked on enviously, and cries of 'house elf!' filled the room as the elder students started to place their own orders.

"Thank you, Minny, these look delicious." Said Maia, as she took her warm mug. The rest of their group said their thanks, even Draco who was clearly delighted to finally have a friendly elf, before Minny bowed to each of them in turn and vanished.

Tracey took a gulp of her drink and sighed contentedly. "So, now you've kept us waiting for an hour – Maia that is a hint for you to spend less time in the library by the way, even though I know you'll never listen – could you please tell us what we're all waiting to hear, Draco?"

Draco turned to them all, his back to the fire, and announced, "I'm going to see Potter, Weasley and Granger expelled, or at least lose their House a hundred points and spend the rest of the year scrubbing floors for Filch."

The rest of their group shared a significant look and leant in closer. "How are you going to pull that off?" Said Blaise, who looked the most sceptical.

"I've been spying on them and that oaf Hagrid's got a dragon hatchling in his hut-"

"What!" whispered Daphne, chocking on her drink. "That shack's made of wood!" Maia was fairly certain that Daphne's look of horror was mirrored on her own face.

"Is he insane?" whispered Blaise.

"He has to be!" whispered Maia.

Draco waved his hand for them to be silent, "That's what the Golden Trio think as well, so they're going to sneak it out of the castle at midnight next week, giving it to one of Weasley's brothers. The three of them will be wandering around out of bed in the middle of the night and all we have to do is tell Filch to catch them and Merlin's your uncle, they're done for!"

Blaise nodded, "I like the idea, but how do we tell Filch to find them, without being out of bed ourselves?"

Draco sighed, "I'm working on it."

"Maybe they'll get themselves caught?" said Tracey hopefully.

Maia shook her head, "Granger's too clever to let them get caught, we have to make sure they get caught ourselves." She paused, "I have an idea. That muggleborn in their year, the boy?"

"Dean Thomas?"

Maia nodded, "Yes, him, he's friends with that hot-head Finnegan as well. We just tell him that if he follows Potter and his friends, he'll see a real baby dragon. He'll take his friend along with them and both of them are as subtle as rabid Acromantulas. They'll be caught in no time, and they'll say they were following Potter and his lot, and then the rest of them will caught as well. We won't even have to get out of bed, we can just go to breakfast in the morning and gloat."

Blaise beamed, "Maia, has anyone ever told you that you're the best Slytherin since Salazar?"

Maia toyed with the ring on her little finger, "Only once or twice."

As the leader, Draco brought the attention back to himself. "That is brilliant, but how are we going to tell them? How are we going to make sure Thomas and Finnegan follow?"

Daphne and Tracey grinned at each other, looking a little evil as they did so. They flicked their long hair and said simultaneously, "You all just leave that to us."

Maia didn't even want to think about what they were planning...

...

When the night of the 'Great Dragon Escape' finally arrived, neither Maia nor any of the other Slytherins could sit still. They fidgeted nervously, hoping that their plan would work and that it wouldn't be traced back to them. In the end, Blaise had suggested they all have an early night and sleep through the nerves. They could see how it had all panned out in the morning.

The next morning, they went down to breakfast and saw that the only Gryffindor first years sat on the table were Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown and that the red rubies on the House Cup scoreboard were conspicuous by their absence. Only a handful remained.

Daphne leant over, "Queenie just said that Bertram's gone to talk to Percy Weasley to see if he knows what's happened, so we should find out what happened in a minute."

Draco helped himself to a slice of eggy bread, "Poor Bertram. I wouldn't like to hold a conservation with any Weasley, but least of all that one."

Daphne shrugged, "I know, but he's the Gryffindors fifth year prefect, and McGonagall must have told them what happened."

Bertram and Percy appeared to be having a rapid conversation and Bertram's eyebrows were almost reaching his hairline.

"It looks like something dramatic happened." Whispered Maia.

Bertram walked back quickly, sat with the other fifth years and Queenie Greengrass, lowered his head, and began to whisper to them so quickly that all the first years could make out was a 'hissing' noise that may as well have been Parseltongue. Queenie beamed when he had finished, kissed Bertram quickly on the cheek, and hurried over to her sister.

"You are never going to believe what happened." She said, before sitting down and promptly recanting the whole story to the first years. Nobody even objected when Parkinson and Bulstrode shuffled closer to hear the story.

"Well," she stared, "it seems that Potter, Granger and Weasley aren't Merlin's gift to the rest of us after all. From what Percy Weasley was saying, and Professor McGonagall spoke to all the Gryffindor prefects this morning so he should know, they decided to play a prank on Finnegan and Thomas. They made up some Basilisk and Cockerel story about having a dragon hatchling that they were going to set free from the top of the Astronomy Tower."

She paused while the first years made appropriately contemptuous noises.

"And so lured the two of them out of dorms. Anyway, Longbottom woke up, saw that they were all gone, so went wandering around looking for them. Filch found him first, but then found Finnegan and Thomas when they ran into the Bloody Baron and ran away screaming. So, they told him the story about the Astronomy Tower, and off he dragged them, only to catch the so-called Golden Trio coming down from the top of the stairs. Well, McGonagall was livid. She took fifty points from Granger, Potter and Weasley each for winding up their house mates and being out of bed, and then twenty five points each from the other three for being stupid enough not to realise that the story was a load on nonsense and for being out of bed as well."

She finished up as the first years burst into hysterics. Their plan had gone even better than they thought. Maia and Draco looked up to see all the Gryffindor first year boys and Granger turn up in the doorway to the Great Hall, only to turn and flee at the glares of their other housemates and the shrieks of laughter that echoed from the Slytherin table. The first years laughed even harder.

Gryffindor House had lost two hundred and twenty five points in one night.

Hermione Granger stopped putting her hand up in class. Neville Longbottom received a Howler from his irate grandmother, and Ron Weasley and Seamus Finnegan received equally angry Howlers from their mothers. Dean Thomas had been told by a normal owl letter (because his mother was a muggle) that he was grounded for all of the Easter holidays, but Tracey had overheard him complaining in potions and wasted no time telling the rest of her friends. Harry Potter, the old man's Golden Boy, found that his team mates only addressed him as 'The Seeker', as Draco proudly informed them after spying on their practice for Warrington.

The rest of the Gryffindors walked around with the air of having been collectively wronged, and wished fervently that Potter had been put in one of the other Houses, if he was always going to get the rest of his year into this much trouble.

The world was a shiny happy place, as far as Maia Black was concerned.

Of course, Draco dropped a few hints to the older years and it soon made its way round to the rest of the Slytherin Common Room (never to leave its hallowed walls, of course) that he and his friends had played a leading hand in setting up Potter's downfall. He made especial reference to Maia's cunning plan in order to make sure that they all knew her dubious birth hadn't affected her abilities as a Slytherin.

So, that Friday, the Slytherin first years (minus Bulstrode and Parkinson, of course) walked into the Common Room after their last class to find that they were on the receiving end of a standing ovation. Such a thing was almost unheard of in the history of Slytherin, who were generally a very reserved lot when it came to public congratulations and displays of emotion. Coeus Blishwick, the Head Boy, made a toast in their honour and the Slytherin Common Room celebrated late into the night.

The Gryffindor first years, on the other hand, where hiding in the library as it was the only place the rest of their House couldn't shout at them, as Madam Pince had a habit of charming books to attack students who raised their voices.

...

**Thank you for all the lovely reviews from the last chapter. I hope that you're all enjoying the story and I'm pleased that people still like Maia. I can't wait to write the rest of this story, especially third year. Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome. **


	30. Dissent Within The House Of Black

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Thirty

_Dear Maia,_

_Your father and I miss you so much. I'm counting down the days until the Easter holidays when you come home again and I can finally see you. Thank you for your last letter, I'm pleased you did so well in your last History of Magic essay. It's a shame that you dislike the teacher so much, but perhaps he'll be replaced next year. Your Aunt Cassiopeia and Uncle Lucius are both on the Board of Governors and I'm sure they would be willing to investigate the matter if you and Draco raised it with them. _

_I've heard from Narcissa that Slytherin is first in the running for the House Cup. Draco wrote to her and told her about a group of Gryffindors in your year losing their House over two hundred points. That is very irresponsible of them, and I hope you take it as an example to watch your own behaviour. _

_There is very little news from home. I've been elected to the fundraising committee of the Women's Institute and we're going to organise a bring and buy sell and a raffle for the next Church fete to collect funds for the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. Do you mind if I sell some of your old baby clothes? (The muggle ones, of course)._

_Mrs. Sinclair is also on the committee and she's insufferable. She spent half the meeting fretting because it turns out that her 'darling Holly' failed the eleven plus and has had to go to the secondary modern school where, so I was told, 'standards are abominably low.' It also seems that they couldn't afford the fees to go private because Mr. Sinclair was demoted at work for being rude to a client, which only goes to show that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I took great pride in informing her that 'my darling Maia' has been accepted into a highly selective boarding school in Scotland and is at the top of most of her classes. Everyone was very impressed with that but Mrs. Sinclair had the cheek to say that 'mixed boarding schools, in her humble opinion, are breeding grounds for vapid obscurest intellectualism and low morals'. I know you're good at potions, dear, so could you brew a poison for me that I could slip into her tea at the next meeting? I'd rather not have any incriminating evidence, when disposing of the body will be hard enough, and the muggle police would never think to look for a magical poison. (I am only joking, of course). _

_Anyway, your father has told me to stop complaining about Mrs. Sinclair because he wants to say that he misses you a great deal, and wishes that Easter would come faster. He also says not to forget what he said at New Years and that he loves you very much._

_Well, I must go. Cassiopeia is joining us for supper this evening._

_All my love,_

_Mum._

Maia looked up from her letter to see that Draco had abandoned his porridge in favour of a slice of Black Forest Gateau sent from home by his mother.

"Draco, it's seven o'clock in the morning." Cried Daphne, looking faintly sick at that amount of sugar.

Draco shrugged, as did Blaise, Vincent and Gregory who all dived into the box of goodies and helped themselves to cake.

Tracey shook her head, "Boys."

Maia looked up and saw a group of Gryffindors, all with their heads down, make a dash for the end of their table and grab some breakfast, before making a quick exit to eat alone on the grounds. Maia felt slightly guilty, not for getting Granger, or Potter, or the Weasel in trouble, they deserved it and the rest deserved what they got for being silly enough to run round the school looking for a dragon. Rather, the only guilt she felt was that poor Neville Longbottom was in trouble. She could feel her wand resting in its holster and hated to think that she could have, in any way, added to his sufferings.

But she hadn't told him to go wandering around the castle at night and she hadn't gotten him caught.

She sighed and went back to her porridge before making her way to the library. Her Transfiguration homework this week was very complicated and she didn't want to have to ask someone to tutor her unless she could absolutely help it.

...

Ron Weasley had the awful habit of talking with his mouth full, and as he was currently in the throes of wishing all manner of evil on anyone who had ever worn a Slytherin tie, small chunks of bread, jam and butter were sailing through the air at his housemates, who were not impressed in the slightest.

"Ronald, close your mouth, chew, swallow and _then_ complain about the Slytherins!" wailed Hermione, flinching as a particularly large chunk of half-chewed food made its way over her head.

Ron swallowed, "Yeah, well, the point still stands. The Slytherins are evil and Malfoy's a git."

Hermione shrugged and went back to her Transfiguration homework. They had had this conversation so many times that she was starting to lose interest, almost. The boys, however, loved to moan about it on a fairly regular basis and she did still gain a mild form of satisfaction in complaining about her lot as well.

Seamus Finnegan nodded enthusiastically, "I can't believe they set us up! Damn snakes, how are we going to get them back? I've learnt a fire-starting spell. We could set their Common Room on fire?"

"Cool! Do you know where their Common Room is?"

When Seamus shook his head, Ron, Dean, and Neville all looked rather crestfallen.

Hermione rolled her eyes and snapped her book shut, "Their Common Room is in the dungeons and, if you're truly desperate to get revenge, could you come up with a plan that's a little better than burning a quarter of the school's population alive?"

Ron licked his fingers to savour the last of the jam and shrugged, "I'd say that we were fulfilling a civic duty if we did."

Harry sighed and looked back over the lake, trying (and failing) to stop himself from brooding over what he had witnessed in the Forbidden Forest a few nights before, and what Firenze had said to him. His attention was bought back to reality when Dean waved a hand in front of his face.

"Hey, mate, what about you? Do you have any ideas for getting the Slytherins back?"

If he was honest, the last thing he wanted to do right now was antagonise Professor Snape, not with everything that was going on. He shook his head, "I think we should leave it and just try and beat them at Quidditch. We can't risk doing anything wrong and losing even more points."

Hermione nodded enthusiastically at this and the others were at least forced to concede that he had a valid point. The group of very unpopular Gryffindors contented themselves with imaging all the various, gruesome fates that could befall Malfoy and his gang, especially Greengrass and Davis, who had flirted with Seamus and Dean, convincing them that it was a good idea, and who the boys had now sworn to never trust again, and Black, who Hermione was convinced was the real brains behind the operation.

In this way, they whiled away their breakfast cheerfully enough, before having to face another long day of taunts and snide remarks.

...

"I think I just saw a merperson swim past." Said Daphne, late that evening. The rest of the first years, worn out after a long day of lessons, looked up slowly towards the dim windows across the room.

The Common Room was almost empty and oddly quiet. With Easter approaching, many of the fifth and seventh years had retreated into the library in preparation for their OWLS and NEWTs. Gemma Farley had hexed a third year, Theodore Nott, so badly that he was still in the Hospital Wing after he threw a Fanged Frisbee at her while she was revising. It was a shame as he was normally a reserved and studious boy himself. Yet the lack of other noise meant that the water of the lake lapping against the windows was oddly lulling and calming, which meant that the tired first years were fighting off the sleepy feeling that hung about their eyes. They all lay sprawled out in various states of repose on the sofas and armchairs surrounding the warm fire.

Askella nudged Maia's hand, hoping for a treat, but she waved the pale grey cat away. Askella shot her a dirty look and jumped onto Daphne's lap. Tracey skirted away, and wrinkled her nose.

Maia sighed in frustration, turning the Tarot cards over again. The same thing came up as before, as it had the time before that, and the time before that.

"What's up, cousin?" Yawned Draco, leaning back in this armchair and stretching, "You've been turning those cards over for almost an hour."

Maia gathered them all up. "Nothing." She lied.

"Oh, come off it. What's up?"

"Nothing."

Draco opened his mouth, but Blaise threw a cushion at him and he shrugged and closed his mouth instead.

"You know, I heard Potter and his groupies talking about the Philosopher's Stone today." Said Tracey. "They were whispering about it in the library."

Draco arched an eyebrow, "The Philosopher's Stone? Really?"

Vincent and Gregory looked up from their rather slow game of chess, "What's the Philosopher's Stone?"

Daphne's eyes looked heavenwards and Tracey answered, "It's a magical stone that's supposed to turn any metal to gold and give the owner immortality."

Draco stood up and poked the fire, swinging the iron poker vehemently when he turned back round. "Bloody Potter, what's he going on about that for? Is he claiming he's found one, or that he's made one?"

Maia looked up for where she had begun laying out the cards again, "He can't have made one, he and the Weasel are far too stupid for that. And he can't have found one, the only known one is owned by Nicholas Flamel. Aunt Cassiopeia told us about him and the Stone, remember? He's 'the insufferable mudblood who should do the world a favour, lose the Stone and die'".

"Yeah, but what's he going on about it for?"

Blaise shrugged, "How should we know? He's probably just spinning tales or something. You've seen how attention-seeking he is, simpering around the teachers, catching a snitch with his _mouth_, for Merlin's sake."

"And," added Tracey, "he's probably just trying to talk big now that his popularity's crashed and burned after the Great Dragon Escape".

Draco looked slightly mollified, and Maia continued. "He just wants to make sure he doesn't lose his fame now that he's at school and we can all see that he's as mediocre a wizard as every other Gryffindor. Well, he's much better than the Weasel but that's not saying much."

Draco laughed, "And Longbottom, he's practically a Squib."

Maia stuck her chin out, "You should watch what you say about Squibs, or else you might find you get less treats from Trixie."

Draco ran his hands through his hair, "I'm only pointing out the obvious. He can barely find the right end of his wand." The others giggled at the innuendo and Draco finally gave up and sat back down, his cheeks flushed, as he mumbled something to himself. The words 'heir', 'obvious what I meant', and 'lack of respect' were clearly audible.

Maia rolled her eyes, "Yes, very well, Longbottom is a bit useless. We ought to be nice to him though, or civil at least, given the circumstances. And his family name is very venerable. Anyway, back to the point, Potter's just attention seeking. When I sat with the Gryffindors at lunch at the start of the year, he was telling them all that he was there when Gringotts was broken into. He and his groupies were going on about Flamel before Christmas as well. They probably fancy that their solving some great mystery, or have convinced Granger to try and make them the Stone, or some other nonsense. It doesn't matter."

As the others continued to complain about Potter and 'his groupies', Maia looked down at the cards. Once again, they spelt the same thing as before: Loss, Pain and Destruction.

What on earth was going on?

She shuffled the cards again, then tossed them aside. If she'd Seen something bad, then so be it. She had no way to know what it was. For all she knew, all that could happen was that Draco was going to accidently stand on a Flobberworm tomorrow.

Her stomach still felt a little unsettled though.

...

Maia decided to stop looking at the future. It wasn't showing her anything pleasant, but it only showed her the vaguest of glimpses. This was why Divination had such a bad reputation, she thought, because it was taken too seriously. She decided instead to concentrate on more practical matters, namely, her rise as the next Slytherin Princess. It was all going rather well. She had cemented her popularity with the prank on Hermione in Potions, and had successfully made a number of snide remarks in the Common Room about some of the 'lesser' students in the other Houses, but had carefully made sure that she some nothing that could be directly traced back to her, or be used against her. Moreover, her new position as the undeniable Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, rather than simply being a Daughter of the House, had raised her to a new level that few of the students could hope to a achieve in terms of future prospects and influence.

Parkinson and Bulstrode, she noted smugly, could only look on and seethe. She had ensured that she was, to all intents and purposes, untouchable. Parkinson didn't dare say anything against her, knowing full well that she had been caught lying about Maia before and so would not be trusted again.

As the exams came closer, she didn't really have time to plot cunning pranks against either of the girls, or the Gryffindors. She threw herself into her studies knowing that Aunt Cassiopeia would be expecting a long line of Os at the end of the year, even if she didn't come top in all of her classes. Damn Hermione Granger. Maia was quietly hoping that she might place higher in Potions, Astronomy and History of Magic though, but was very concerned that she might only achieve an E in Transfiguration, which was rapidly becoming her weakest subject.

Late one Thursday evening, after spending far too many hours in the library after dinner, Maia sighed inwardly and began to stack her notes and placed them and her books into her bag. She fastened the jewel-encrusted lid back onto her inkwell and carefully put it in the top on her satchel, idly wondering if Aunt Cassiopeia had ever found a subject difficult to master. Straightening her robes, she deliberately ignored Hermione, who would diligently remain in the library until Madam Pince threw her out, Maia began to make her way back to the Slytherin Common Room. After a whole day out in public, she was looking forward to the chance to curl up by the fire, wrap a blanket around herself and doze lightly as Draco ranted about this or that or the other.

She was so lost in her thoughts that the hand which grabbed her shoulder took her by surprise. She spun round and drew her wand, though her attacker darted backwards quickly and threw his hands in the air. She glared at him viciously for a moment, before remembering that he was Finch-Fletchley, Ernie's friend.

She tossed her hair and shifted her satchel back onto her shoulder, as it had begun to slide off when she drew her wand to attack. She placed her wand away, pleased that she could still feel the power and the magic radiating from it, even if she had had no idea what curse or jinx or counter-jinx she would have used.

"You ought not to sneak up on a young lady, Finch-Fletchley. It's ill-mannered and I might have hexed you into oblivion." She looked him up and down as he shifted his feet uncomfortably and ran a hand through his hair.

"Sorry, Black. I did call after you. I left the library just after you, and well, I thought it might be nice to say hello. I haven't spoken to you since we caught the train together, after Christmas, do you remember?"

She raised her eyebrow, "Yes, you were there with my cousin Ernie. I remember, of course." She looked at him expectantly, wondering why on earth he seemed to think that they should have spoken since then and why he would want to say hello to her.

He nodded, "It was a nice trip." He paused, "So, have you had a good term?"

Her raised eyebrow came dangerously close to forming a frown. She had no desire to make idle small talk with this stupid little Hufflepuff, who was not her friend, who she did not like for _himself_, and whose acquaintance offered no advantage to _herself_. She was worn out, she was fed up, she was worried about Transfiguration and she wanted nothing more than to run away to the Common Room where she could finally kick off her shoes, _slouch_ in a chair and relax for the first time in the whole day.

"My term has been very satisfactory." She paused herself, and supposing that he _was _Ernie's friend after all, she added, "Have you had a good term?"

"Who yes, this whole year has been so much fun! Ernie is such a good fellow, isn't he? He's been teaching me all about the wizarding world. I'm dreading exams though, were you revising in the library as well?"

"Yes, Ernie is a good boy. He's my second favourite cousin, after Draco, of course." She said, knowing that it was exactly like Ernie to take pity on a poor muggleborn and teach him about the magical world. It was in Finch-Fletchley's interest to learn as much as she could, but Maia was fairly sure he was too stupid to learn anything. Fancy thinking werewolves might be safe! "And yes, I was revising as well."

Justin looked up and down the corridor, "Are you going back to your Common Room now, then?"

"Yes."

He scratched his head again, "Would you like some company?"

She wondered if it would be rude to hex him; she just wanted to get back to the Common Room in peace! But of course it would be rude to hex him, so she tried a different tactic. "Isn't the Hufflepuff Common Room in the other direction?"

She didn't actually know this, as Aunt Cassiopeia had not thought it necessary information to convey, but took it as a lucky guess. By the way he shifted his weight awkwardly, she assumed she was right. "I wouldn't want you to get caught out of bounds. It is quite a long way to the Slytherin Common Room from here. You might not get back in time."

It's a good job I'm a Slytherin, otherwise I might have to feel guilty about lying to him, she thought.

He smiled brightly, "Oh well then, I'm sure I'll see you again soon enough and we can catch up then." He waved before he left and wished her goodnight. She was pleased to see that he remembered to bow, at least, and she turned on her heel and marched back to the Common Room.

Thank Salazar.

...

Irma and Druella Black walked arm in arm around the grounds of the Bavarian Castle.

"Are you sure there's nothing we can do to disinherit her?"

Irma shook her head.

"Not even if we got Melania to intervene?"

Again, Irma shook her head. "Cassiopeia has managed to finalise all the paperwork, it's gone through the goblins. It must have even gone through the blood wards on the inheritance spells, it's all over."

Druella gasped, "But there must be something! There simply has to be!"

"There is nothing we can do. She is the acting Head of House and the true Head, a true devoted pureblood, is incarcerated in Azkaban and has no legal right to interfere."

"Then we must accept it."

"We must."

Druella sighed, "How long have you known?"

"Since Yule, I wanted to wait and tell you in person."

The younger woman nodded, "I understand. And you say Narcissa was there?"

"Yes, she fully supported it."

"Over the head of our own dear Draco!"

"Perhaps they have planned a match? By all accounts, the children are inseparable."

"Salazar forbid!"

"I know! To think, the shame! Pure Draco Lucius Malfoy wed to _that_."

The two women turned the corner, their heads bent together as the spring sunlight danced around them, and made their way back towards the castle.

...

The Common Room was almost empty when Maia arrived back, and she realised that most of her friends had already gone on to bed. She sighed and made her way towards her room. Rubbing her tired eyes, she jumped backwards when she collided with a bony, yet solid, figure.

"Watch where you're going, Black."

Maia looked up to see Pansy Parkinson glaring out her. Why her? Why tonight? First Fletchley and now Parkinson; Merlin, what had she done to deserve this?

"Sorry Parkison, I was tired and didn't see you."

"Yeah, well just because you can trick the rest of Slytherin into eating out of your hand and throwing themselves at your feet, doesn't mean that I'm going to part like the proverbial Red Sea when I see you coming."

Maia jerked her chin out, offended, and sneered, "You ought to watch yourself, Parkinson, you're showing off your muggle blood with that reference."

Parkinson paled and stepped backwards out of the way, whilst Maia stalked past before finally collapsing in her bed. If only Draco could have heard her, she thought, as she drifted off to sleep...

...

**Thank you for all the reviews from the last chapter. I really love that Slytherins are enjoying this story, although I am not a Slytherin myself. Well, at least not according to Pottermore. : ) **


	31. The Lives They Have All Been Given

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Thirty One

The next day Maia woke with a twinge of guilt. Her remark to Parkinson had been extremely cutting, and rather below the belt. She didn't care that Parkinson was a half blood, but Parkinson clearly did, to the extent that she was pretending to be a pureblood. To use that to taunt her was beneath her own dignity, and a clear violation of her father's instructions regarding her behaviour.

She sighed.

Well, she had no _real_ intention of revealing Parkinson's secret and the girl _had_ bullied her at the start of the school year, so perhaps it would be good to keep her on her toes? Maia shrugged inwardly, dismissed the matter, and got out of bed and began to get ready for school. Daphne was already up when she got into the bathroom and was arranging her Alice band neatly over her hair. They said good morning before Maia got in the shower.

Tracey was still asleep when she and Daphne left for breakfast, but they managed to wake her up and point her in the direction of the bathroom. It was a close call but they were all lined up and ready for History of Magic in time. Draco was just telling them that Potter was once again spending the holidays in the castle (as if she cared what Potter, Granger and the Weasel were doing) when they all filed into the classroom for their weekly hour of boredom.

The rest of the day went little better – both Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall set them a 12 inch essay to complete over the holiday and Professor Sprout set them a 15 inch essay, after she overheard Draco complaining that a subject full of mud was not a real subject. The loyalty of the Slytherin first years to their leader was tested somewhat after that, and Tracey even tried to hex him, although the spell didn't work. Maia settled for writing to Aunt Cassiopeia, hoping that she would send him a Howler.

That evening, the three girls set to packing for the trip home at the end of the week. Askella was not much help, as she kept stealing Maia's socks and walking away with them, which Daphne found hilarious. As Daphne lay on her bed laughed, Tracey dumped a pile of books into her trunk, which landed with an angry thud.

"Argh, I am so angry with Draco!" she cried, standing up and walking back to her desk to collect yet more books. "Why can't he keep his stupid mouth shut? Sprout wouldn't have given us any Easter homework, I bet, if he hadn't been whining!"

Daphne sat up and scratched Askella's ears, who and joined her on the bed with a pair of pink socks stolen from Maia's trunk, "He's always like that. He has to give his opinion, it's only because he wants to make sure we all know he's in charge."

"But why does he get to be in charge?"

Maia shrugged, "Because Draco's always in charge, just like Uncle Lucius is always in charge." She paused, "Perhaps we could attribute it to the famous Malfoy charm?"

Tracey grunted as she fought to close her overflowing trunk, "What charm? I've never seen any charm?"

Daphne lifted her shoulders to indicate that she had nothing further to say on the matter, before turning to Maia, "I overheard Parkinson and Bulstrode earlier. Parkinson seems worried that you're going to spill a secret of hers." She and Tracey looked wickedly at each other, "Do come on then, spill, tell us the gossip."

Draco forgotten, Tracey nodded eagerly, "Oh yes please, do tell us. You know I live for gossip."

Maia looked at them both before shrugging, "Far be it from me to understand the workings of Parkinson's mind. I have no idea what 'secret' she's talking about, she must have confused me for someone who cares about her existence."

Both Tracey and Daphne looked slightly crestfallen, but seemed to accept that Maia was telling the truth. After all, most of their gossip sessions with Maia were slightly stilted by her continued insistence that most of people they were talking about were either 'irrelevant', too 'of the people' or 'mediocre' to concern her.

...

Cassiopeia Black rolled her eyes and tossed the letter into the fire. Ever since she had made Maia Heir to the House of Black, she had received weekly letters from Irma and Druella in turn, each of them pointing out the evils of naming a half blood as the next Head. Melania had yet to comment on the matter, although her silence could, perhaps, be taken as tacit agreement.

She wondered if the who women would care less if they knew that Maia was the pureblood daughter of the renowned blood purist Sirius Black.

She sighed, knowing that she could not reveal that secret. At least not at the moment, anyway. She took consolation in the fact that while the line might appear sullied, it was really as pure as it always had been.

There was also the consolation, which she did not like to admit, that she was rather fond of Maia. She had the Black aristocratic looks, even if she could not be called 'pretty' like all the Greengrass girls. She had the Black poise, the Black quick mind and even some of the Black wit, although it was occasionally tainted with childish mischievous.

Cassiopeia would not degrade herself to somehow imply that she looked on Maia as the daughter she had never had, but had she had children, she hoped they would have been like Maia. Although it was no use dwelling on things that had not been and could never have been.

This was the life that she'd been given, after all. It was not the done thing – and had never been the done thing – to make one's own.

...

As he trudged home from work, Remus Lupin tried his best not to look up from glaring at the pavement. It had been his last day at the second hand book shop, which had now, finally, gone out of business. He had a pile of bills waiting for him on the table and he knew that he would have very little left over once he had paid them. He would have enough for a few nights in a hostel, and then he would be back to sleeping on an old friend's floor, over-staying his welcome, and desperately hoping his luck would change. The monthly transformations were only a portion of the werewolf curse.

When he returned, he saw a Hogwarts owl sitting on his dining table. He thanked the owl and watched it fly away, before breaking the seal. He had received fairly regular letters from Dumbledore about Maia, usually a letter every month or so. They weren't overly informative, but were mainly copies of her grades and assurances that she was getting on well.

_Dear Remus,_

_I trust this letter finds you well. _

_I am once again writing to assure you that Miss. Black is a well-motivated, courteous and high-achieving student. Professor Snape informs me that she is the most talented potioneer of her year. She is a consistent O-grade student, which few other students can claim. Her friendship circle is mainly limited to a group of Slytherin first years, as you already know, and the group appear to get along well. In short, very little has changed since my last letter. Perhaps these updates are getting a little trivial. I think it would be better if I just sent you her school report at the end of each year. After all, you do not have the permission of her guardians to be receiving these updates, and Marius Black is rather protective. He would be most displeased if he were to find out about them. He has made it clear on numerous occasions that he no longer wishes me to be involved in Maia's upbringing (he has still not forgiven me for my ill-chosen words after the Ministry incident) and I regret to say that we have not been in contact since Yule. As you remember, I was not pleased to hear that Maia was made Heir to the House of Black. I feel that she ought to be kept away from the legacy of that House. _

_Either way, I shall send you her school report at the end of the year._

_Best wishes,_

_Albus Dumbledore. _

Remus Lupin crushed the letter into a ball, surrounding it with his fist, before he hurled it at the wall.

...

Lucius Malfoy sat alone in his mansion, nursing a large glass of firewhiskey. He reclined back into his large chair and stroked the rim of the tumbler. He had a problem.

He was loyal to the aims of the Dark Lord. He always had been and he always would be. He was a blood purist. He was Head of the House of Malfoy. He knew what he stood for. He had not liked the methods of the Dark Lord. He had not relished in the killing like his cousins and sister-in-law. Yet he had done his duty. He had always done his duty. Killing blood traitors had been unpleasant, but it had to be done.

Yet the Dark Lord was gone.

Yet still Lucius Malfoy had done his duty. He had done his duty to the Dark Lord, had hidden his belongings and kept his secrets.

He had done his duty as his Head of House, moulding and shaping his son to carry on their traditions. It had not always been a pleasant or easy task either, but he had done it, as his father had done it before him.

Draco Malfoy would also do his duty.

But Lucius Malfoy also knew his duties as a husband.

His wife was hurting, was suffering. She had lost so much and she had always been a quiet, delicate soul. He had loved her since Hogwarts. She was the quiet Black sister. While Bellatrix had raged and Andromeda had ranted, Narcissa had sat quietly by, simply looking on sadly as if any trouble and strife in the world pained her heart. She had always told him that she simply wanted a quiet life, away from any argument, where nothing sad or unpleasant or distressing would enter her gilded world.

He had tried so hard and failed so miserably to provide that. He wanted to keep trying.

He glanced at the diary on the table before him and took another swig of his whiskey.

He wanted to keep trying, but he was scared.

Lucius Malfoy was absolutely terrified.

...

Maia and Draco stepped off the train together. Vincent and Gregory said their gruff goodbyes and left quickly, whilst Maia, Daphne and Tracey had said their (longer) goodbyes on the train and had exchanged friendship bracelets which Tracey had made. Blaise said his final farewell to them before walking across the platform to his waiting mother and a bored-looking man.

Draco looked around and pointed, "There they are, shall we go over? Are you alright with your trunk?"

Maia nodded and they set off together towards Aunt Narcissa and Uncle Lucius. "I still can't believe mother and father aren't coming to pick me up."

Draco shrugged, "You know you can say mum and dad to me, right? Aunt Cassiopeia isn't spying on us. She isn't even here."

Maia laughed, "I wouldn't put it past her to be a fly as an Animagus, just so she _could_ spy on us."

Draco laughed as well, which was quickly stifled when Aunt Narcissa swept down to pull him into a tight embrace. "Oh Draco, darling, I'm so pleased you're finally home. Your father and I have missed you so very much." Draco gasped for air and moaned that she was embarrassing him. Narcissa tutted, and hugged him again.

She let go of him and quickly threw her arms around Maia. Maia glanced up to see Draco and his father shaking hands stiffly.

"I'm so pleased to see you as well, Maia. Your mother and father are very sorry that they couldn't be here to meet you. They'll pick you up first thing in the morning. Your father was called into London this morning on business and couldn't get away. Stupid muggles, of course, can't survive without a Black to lead them. I didn't understand all the muggle money talk, of course, but it sounded rather important and your mother went with him to do some shopping in town, she hasn't been in so long but she's promised to bring you back something nice."

Narcissa finally let her go and looked her up and down oddly, and Maia supposed that she wanted to check that Hogwarts was feeding them all properly. With that, they all made their way back to Malfoy Manor.

When they arrived, Maia noted that a number of the Darker looking ornaments had been removed since her last visit, and she wondered if they were worried that she and Draco would start 'investigating' them. She politely thanked Dobby for taking her possessions to her room, while he looked up at her in wonder, and tried to understand why he could be so useful to her, but so very horrible to Draco and his Master at the same time. Well, it wasn't really her business.

Dinner was, of course, exceptional and afterwards the whole party retired to the drawing room. Draco and his father played wizarding chess, whilst Maia and Narcissa played duets on the piano. That night, Maia pulled her duvet around her and tried not to be angry with her parents. Of course, her father couldn't help being called into town at the very last moment before they left to pick her up, and she couldn't blame her mother for going with her. She had every right to have a holiday, and would probably encourage her father to come home earlier by being there, but it was still very frustrating to spend the first day of her holiday with her aunt and uncle. Although she loved them dearly, she had not been looking forward to seeing them as much as she had been looking forward to seeing her parents.

At least they had sent an express owl to Hogwarts, so she'd known not to expect them at the platform. Still, she thought, that was not a great deal of comfort.

Her frustration only grew when her parents did not pick her up the next day, but instead spent a total of three days in town. By the time she got home, she was rather put out. She behaved herself at dinner, but excused herself soon after. She went to bed without saying goodnight to either of her parents.

The next morning, she sat down to breakfast before either of them and began to help herself without waiting.

Caroline and Marius entered the room together. Her father looked tired and worn and Maia felt suddenly guilty. He hadn't wanted to go to London and he wasn't that young anymore, it must be very stressful and tiring for him to travel across the country and sort out complicated financial things for muggles who _knew_ that he had long since retired. She couldn't blame him for that. She was still rather annoyed with her mother though.

"Maia, you shouldn't eat before everyone else has sat down at the table. It's very rude and you should know better."

Maia sniffed, "I think it's very rude to go on holiday to town and not pick your daughter up from school."

Marius sat down wearily in his chair and Caroline poured herself some tea. "I am very sorry, but I didn't want your father to go on his own. I thought that if I were there, I could tell those tiresome executives how tired and ill all the travelling had made me so they would feel guilty and let us leave earlier."

Marius laughed and Maia couldn't help but smile. She had no real desire to quarrel with her parents, so she put down her cup and saucer and said, "I'm sorry, mum. I _was_ rude. I was just really disappointed not to see you both on the platform."

Caroline nodded, "I know, I've missed you so much, dearest. You should know that there's a present for you in the next room."

Maia sat up straighter in her seat.

"And you can have it after breakfast."

She slumped slightly, making her father laugh again.

"Oh, go and get it now, dear."

She stood up, kissed him on the forehead as she left the room, and came back in a few moments to throw her arms around her mother and her father in turn. Her mother must have felt really bad to buy her a broom! And not just any broom, and Nimbus Two Thousand!

Marius chuckled and hugged her back, "Well, when you wrote to tell me that Harry Potter had one, I couldn't just sit back and keep letting my darling girl fly on a Cleansweep, could I?"

"You are brilliant, dad! I can't wait to tell Draco!"

Caroline made herself an extra-strong cup of tea, "Yes, well just make sure you don't fall and break your neck."

...

**Hello, and thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter, I really do appreciate it. I do like the Golden Trio, but I want the story to be realistic. Maia's been raised with Cassiopeia's very particular brand of 'morality' and that will affect her. Even if it had just been left to Marius and Caroline, she still would have been a bit of a spoilt snob. I can't wait to write how this will all play out though when a few certain people reappear (Remus, Sirius and... Voldemort).**

**So, until the next update, please review. Constructive criticism is always welcome, and let me know if you think anyone's too OOC or becoming a Mary Sue. I'm really nervous about the next couple of chapters, and how the year will end, but I've written quite far into second year now, so Chapter 32 should be up in a few days when I'm happy with my proof-reading. **


	32. The Secrets Of Pansy Parkinson

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

Chapter Thirty Two

Maia sat in the family library, holding a sandwich in one hand, a quill in the other, and trying to balance both without upsetting the inkwell as she turned the pages of the heavy tome in front of her. She would have to have Aunt Cassiopeia teach her how to Avada Draco, because he deserved it after bringing this Herbology essay down on them all.

She discarded what was left of her sandwich and started to write quickly on the parchment. She couldn't even think about revision until she had finished all of these essays!

She really would have to kill Draco. That was final.

There was a slight tapping noise at the door and she looked up to see her father walking into the room.

"How are your studies going, Maia?"

"There's so much work to do, and I haven't even started to revise yet!" She said, turning back to the desk immediately.

He smiled, "You'll wear yourself out if you carry on like this, why don't you take a break?"

She shook her head without looking up from her book, "I can't, I simply must get this work done."

"But I haven't even seen you fly on your broom yet, the fresh air would do you good. And I have hardly seen you at all this holiday."

She ignored the hurt tone in his voice, "Then you should have picked me up from school rather than listening to the stupid mug-business people."

"Just ten minutes."

A whine crept into her voice as she turned round, "_Dad_, can't you see how much work I've got? I've _got_ to study, I _have_ to place first."

He smiled again, albeit sadly this time, "I know, I was just looking forward to seeing you and spending some time with you. How about chess after dinner? Your mother won't let you study in the evening."

Maia rolled her eyes and the injustice of it all, "Fine, I'll play chess this evening and read in bed tonight."

Marius patted her on the head before walking out of the room, while Maia turned back to her books. They played a brief game of chess that night, before Maia excused herself early to read through her text books before she went to bed and, after much complaining, was allowed to study after dinner as well from then on.

...

Back in school after the end of the holidays, Maia continued to throw herself into her revision schedule. She ignored her letters from home, telling herself that she could answer them more fully in person over the holidays.

Her only disappointment was that Granger seemed to have a schedule even more gruelling than her own. Neither Draco nor any of the other Slytherin first years were willing to keep up with her relentless pace, but she often had company in the library with Ernie who was as studious as herself. Daphne and Tracey refused to join them because Ernie had the annoying habit of interrogating anyone nearby about their revision techniques. Draco and Blaise popped in for a few hours each night, whilst Finch-Fletchley and Abbott would also study with them fairly regularly as well. Vincent and Gregory never appeared at all.

Late one Sunday evening, Maia was almost alone in her section of the library. Ernie had taken the night off (well, Finch-Fletchley and Abbott had dragged him back to the Hufflepuff Common Room insisting that he relax) and the Slytherin first years refused to revise on weekends, on principle. She looked up to see Hermione Granger walking past her, balancing a pile of books almost as tall as herself.

Maia wasn't quite sure what made her do it, although she was fairly certain it was jealously and exam stress, but she pulled out her wand, flicked it slightly and whispered _Wingardium Leviosa_ so that the books floated away from Granger's hands and levitated themselves in her direction, before landing neatly on the far side of Maia's desk.

Hermione stomped across the library and came to a halt in front of her with her hands on her hips. "You think you're so clever, don't you, Black?" She snapped, "Some of us actually take our studies seriously, you know. We don't just flounce about, saying, _my aunt taught me this_ and _my aunt taught me that_, we actually learn for ourselves."

Maia sighed, she didn't_ actually_ have time for an argument. She'd just wanted to annoy Granger and distract her from her revision, she hadn't wanted to interrupt her own schedule.

"If you're so serious about studying, why don't you just take your books and go away? I'm not making you stand there."

"And how do I know you won't pull the same stunt again?"

"I can't be bothered." She said, lounging back in her seat and pushing her hair back off her face.

"I can't stand you, Black."

"The feeling's mutual, Granger. You're precocious, self-absorbed and insufferable."

"Aren't those words a bit long for someone who's inbred?"

Maia almost gasped, but recovered quickly, "You've been spending far too long with the Weasel, you're picking up is half-baked insults. His blood is purer than mine, you know."

Hermione shrugged, "I don't care, he's better than your lot. You and Malfoy and your little gang are all a bunch of stuck-up, arrogant, hate-filled, jumped-up-"

Maia cut her off, "An insult can get too long, you know, Granger."

Hermione grabbed her books, "You can wave that stupid little ring on that stupid little finger of yours and think that you're so clever and perfect, but it won't do you any good in the real world. It might make you popular at school, but no one will give you a job just because your surname's Black."

She turned to walk away, but not until Maia called after her, "I'll never need a job."

Hermione spun round on her heel, "Yeah, well, you can't have _daddy_ pay for everything forever, can you? You'll have to look after yourself one day!"

Maia smirked, "That's what trust funds are for."

...

The exam week finally started.

History of Magic came first on Monday morning and Maia felt that it went very well. The 16th Goblin War distracted her slightly when she remembered that a werewolf had first taught that era to her, but she answered that question particularly well nevertheless.

Herbology came next, and they spent the first half an hour answering a multiple choice paper which was largely based on their Easter essay (Draco was forgiven) and then they had to demonstrate how to correctly weed and water a standard Herbology patch. Since she had been doing that since she was five years old, Maia would be extremely put out if she received anything less than an 'O'.

This was followed by Charms, which was also a mixture of written and practical exercises. They first had to answer a number of questions on charm theory and then match the charm with the correct incantation, and they were then called aside to demonstrate a number of charms they had learnt that year. Professor Flitwick was very pleased with the strength of Maia's _Wingardium Leviosa _and she smirked to herself later, remembering her extra practise in the library.

Transfiguration was much harder. Maia felt her essay went very well, and successfully turned a match into a needle, but felt that her tea cup still looked a little fluffy and retained something of a tea cosy-like air. Still, she was certain that she passed, thank Merlin.

Astronomy was, simply put, a breeze. She could have done it with her eyes closed. Potions was the only exam they had with the Gryffindors and she threw Hermione a filthy look as she walked past her with her nose in the air to take her place. Maia's potion earned a rare nod of approval from Professor Snape and she later told Draco that she would eat her broomstick is their Head of House gave them anything less than an 'O'.

Potions had been their last exam on Friday and the Slytherin first years traipsed – exhausted – out of the dungeons to relax in the summer sunshine by the Black Lake. They still had a few hours to go until dinner, so were looking forward to lying on the grass and doing absolutely nothing.

The grounds were rather crowded with students resting and enjoying themselves, but they managed to find a quiet spot, with enough shade that Tracey and Daphne were satisfied that their porcelain complexions wouldn't be in any danger. The boys pulled off their robes, kicked off their shoes and socks and rolled up their trousers before charging into the water to generally fight and drench each other and behave like eleven year old boys. They emerged soaked to the skin but lay back next to the girls to dry off in the heat, ignoring the disapproving looks from the older Slytherins, who were elegantly reclining on conjured sun loungers, beneath parasols.

Draco laughed out loud, "You do know that it's down to all of us that we completely thrashed the Gryffindors in the House Cup this year?"

Daphne rolled her eyes, "Oh Draco, did you think that we were in danger of forgetting our brilliance?"

Tracey tossed her hair over her shoulder and began to twist it into a braid absently, "I don't think any of us will ever be in any danger of that."

Blaise scratched his hair and watched Tracey's fingers move expertly and exactly as she knotted her plait. "Well, aren't we a modest bunch?"

Maia cast a withering glance in the direction of some other students, and quoted the eleventh rule of being a Black, "The only people who value modesty are those who have nothing to be proud about."

At this, the group dissolved into laughter and the boys decided that they had spent enough time drying off, and that they ought to go and play again. This time they persuaded Maia to join them, although Tracey and Daphne remained where they were, under a parasol Bertram Nott had kindly conjured for them as he and Queenie walked past, arm in arm.

Eventually, the heat of the sun got to Maia's head and she excused herself to go back to the castle. The others offered to join her, of course, but she insisted they remain outdoors and enjoy themselves. They still had at least another half hour before dinner. Maia walked back to the Slytherin Common Room, enjoying the coolness of her dungeon home in a way which would have been unimaginable in December.

She caught a glimpse of herself in one of the mirrors and walked over to investigate. She cringed when she saw that she had caught the sun on her nose. It was already scarlet! Her Aunt Cassiopeia would kill her if she knew and Maia hoped that an older student would fix it for her before term ended next week.

Maia looked over her shoulder when she saw another reflection behind her. She had thought that the Common Room was empty.

"Parkinson? What are you doing in here?"

Pansy Parkinson drew herself up, her pug-like face forming a stony glare, "I think you'll find that I have as much right to be in here as you."

Maia wished that she could lean against the wall for support – the week of exams had been exhausting and she had no desire to argue with Parkinson. She generally preferred it when they ignored and avoided each other.

She closed her eyes briefly, before opening them and meeting Parkinson's glare, "I never suggested you didn't. What do you want, anyway? Why aren't you outside like everyone else?"

"Why would I want anything from _you_?"

"I haven't the slightest idea, but you're talking to me, so you must want something."

"You think you're so clever, don't you? So very funny and witty? Well, you can fool everyone else but you can't fool me. Everyone else can fall over themselves to gush about pretty, perfect, funny, clever Maia Black, but _I_ won't._ I_ know you're just a stupid little mudblood."

"I strongly suggest you stop calling me that, or I will report you. I wonder if they can extend detentions into the next academic year?"

Parkinson stepped closer, while Maia held her ground. "Yes, because everyone would rush to your aid, wouldn't they? They couldn't possibly let little Maia Black know a moment of pain, could they? Merlin forbid anything bad happen in your perfect, gilded little world!" She spat.

Maia rolled her eyes, "Oh be quiet, Parkinson, jealously isn't becoming of a young lady."

Parkinson suddenly stamped her foot, as tears threatened to fill her eyes, "You don't get it at all, do you? You don't even get how perfect everything always is for you, do you? How everything always works out for you? How everyone always loves you? You get to have everything, even though you're just a half blood, you get everything. All of Slytherin _loves_ you, it isn't supposed to be like that!"

Parkinson turned to run away, but Maia reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back round to face her.

"People shouldn't like or dislike me because I'm a half blood, they should like or dislike me for who I am and the same goes for you. And you think that my life's perfect? So perfect when half the House of Black want to murder me in my bed for being 'Squib spawn' and you spent months poking me in the back and calling me a mudblood? You're pathetic, Parkinson, and woefully misguided."

Parkinson bared her teeth, "Oh yes, of course _I'm _pathetic. I'm always the pathetic one, the pathetic one that nobody wants around. You can complain about half the House hating you, but you're still the Heir. You're still wanted. Everyone here likes you, even muggles like you." Even though Parkinson's face was contorted with anger, Maia could still see that her eyes were filling with tears. "I did one stupid thing at the start of the year, just to watch my own back, and now your lot won't let anyone near me and Millicent. We're inside because you'd make our lives miserable if we were outside. We were outside earlier and we _saw_ you laughing at us."

Maia wasn't sure if it was the heat, or the release of all that exam tension that was making emotions run so high that day. As she looked at Parkinson, though, she felt more than a twinge of guilt. She was as lonely and upset as Maia had felt when she'd been bullying her.

"We weren't laughing at you, we didn't even notice you were there. We were laughing at the Gryffindors, and how we beat them for the House Cup."

"And that makes it better? That your lot don't even notice us? It's like we don't exist."

Maia shrugged, "What can you expect? You've been horrid since the Sorting and you've no right to complain to me about ill-treatment, I've kept your stupid little secret that I don't even understand. Why on earth would you pretend to be a pureblood?"

"It's all right for you, you're popular. Even your stupid muggle loves you. Some of us don't have that luxery."

"Of course my mother loves me. She's my mother. And don't you dare call her stupid."

"Muggles are stupid. She hates you secretly, she hates your magic."

Maia frowned at her, "Don't be absurd."

"It's not absurd. It's true. Muggles hate magic and they can't be trusted. I don't want to be a half blood, I want nothing to do with muggles. I don't want muggle blood. My mother made a mistake, she was a pureblood. I should be a pureblood too. It's not fair that a muggle should take my magic away from me."

Maia remembered her vision, with the witch surrounded by a muggle family, "Having muggle blood doesn't take your magic away from you. You're in Hogwarts, aren't you? As am I, and a whole bunch of muggleborns."

Parkinson crossed her arms over herself and spat fiercely, "I hate muggles."

Maia frowned and remembered the boys beating her in the grounds when she was little. She had thought about hating muggles then, but she had her mother. She had never seen Parkinson's father. Only her mother waited for her at Platform 9 and ¾.

"Your father didn't like magic, did he?"

Parkinson suddenly paled and looked at the floor.

"I won't tell, I promise I won't tell. He was wrong and stupid, but that doesn't mean there's anything wrong with being a half blood, but I won't tell that either. I won't tell your secrets."

Parkinson nodded slowly and refused to look up at her.

Maia felt herself squirm inside. She didn't like Parkinson. In truth, she despised her. Pansy Parkinson was weak, she hated the wrong people, she hated them blindly and she had treated her terribly. Yet she was sad and lonely and clearly hurting.

"Is it the same with Bulstrode?"

Parkinson shook her head, "No, her great-grandfather married a muggleborn. Her branch of the family is disowned. But she understands how I feel." She looked up suddenly, "You can't tell that either."

"I won't. I promise."

Parkinson stood up to leave, and although Maia was proud enough to notice that she'd not been thanked, she still found herself calling after her, "Wait!"

Parkinson turned around reluctantly, "Yes?"

"You and Bulstrode are both Slytherins. We ought to stick together. I don't like either of you and I doubt that will change, but you ought to sit with us at dinner. I'll square it with Draco later." She smiled weakly, "We ought to present a united front when we thrash Gryffindor at the House Cup."

Parkinson nodded slowly and almost smiled, before leaving the Common Room. Maia looked at the clock on the mantelpiece and saw that she only had ten minutes until dinner. She checked her reflection in the mirror, wondered what on earth she had just let herself in for by inviting Parkinson and Bulstrode to sit with them, mourned the state of her crimson nose, and then made her own way towards the Great Hall.

She couldn't help but feel sorry for Parkinson and Bulstrode. Family was important, and there's had abandoned them. That had to hurt. It didn't excuse their behaviour, but it explained it somewhat. She would never allow them to be her friends, but she ought to be on civil terms with all her house mates.

As she turned the last corner, she was stopped by a call from behind her.

"Miss. Black?" She turned to see Professor Snape gliding towards her, his thick black robes billowing out behind him as the crowds parted and he approached her. She presumed he had cast a cooling charm on his clothes.

"Yes, Professor Snape?" she answered.

He looked her up and down with his unreadable dark eyes, "If you would follow me, Miss. Black, I would like a word with you in my office."

...

**Thank you for all the reviews from the last chapter – I really to appreciate them. As ever, reviews, comment and constructive criticism are more than welcome! (Although I can't comment on future plotlines yet without ruining the story, sorry!) **


	33. The Life That They Have Lost

**I do not own Harry Potter. This chapter is short, but it does what it needs to do. The next one will be longer. **

**Trigger warning: grief/death**

Chapter Thirty Three

A red-eyed Draco Malfoy stared blankly at the plate of food in front of him. The rest of the Slytherin first years sat silently around him. Blaise and Tracey shifted awkwardly in their seats, whilst Daphne's skin was deathly pale and Vincent and Gregory chewed mechanically and without their usual relish.

Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode approached the group and sat down on the empty seats next to them.

"Black said we could join you for dinner this evening."

Life flickered in Draco's eyes. "No she didn't. She hates both of you. Go away."

Parkinson shrugged, "I saw her in the Common Room and she said Slytherin ought to present a united front."

Draco glared at her, "Maia's gone home."

Parkinson frowned, "I just saw her."

Draco's calm snapped and he pushed away his food, "Oh shut up and go away, Parkinson."

Daphne sighed, "I'm not in the mood for arguments, stay where you are." She pushed the plate back towards Draco.

Tracey nodded, "Come on, Draco, you need to eat."

He shook his head and clenched his fists. Father would be furious if he found out that he'd been crying at all, yet alone that he'd cried in public.

...

Maia followed Professor Snape back towards the dungeon. He hadn't told her what he wanted, and Maia didn't dare speak to him without being spoken to first. She wondered if she was in trouble, or if Parkinson had made up more lies to get her in trouble. Nothing good could come of being taken out of dinner and escorted away by your Head of House. Professor Snape only spoke to them when there was a problem. In his entire tenure as Head of House, he had never taken a student aside to praise them or give them good news.

By the time they reached Snape's office, her stomach had twisted itself into knots. When she couldn't find a fault in her own behaviour, she started to panic that something was wrong back home. Aunt Cassiopeia hadn't written to her all week, was she sick? She wasn't _that_ old for a witch, but she certainly wasn't young.

Snape pushed open the door and bile rose in Maia's stomach.

Madam Pompfrey was there, her hands clasped in front of her and her face worried and drawn. Aunt Narcissa was sitting in a chair in front of Snape's desk, sobbing into a delicate lace handkerchief. When she saw that the door had opened, she drew herself back up and dabbed her face, trying to pull it back to its normal composure. Her lips formed a thin line and she then clasped her hands in front of her to stop them shaking.

Madam Pompfrey bustled over towards Maia and began to bundle her into the chair next to her aunt.

The world suddenly started to spin much slower and she stared blankly at Professor Snape, who started talking to her. His lips moved, but the words sounded drawn out and distorted. Madam Pompfrey fussed and Aunt Narcissa suddenly broke down into more tears, whilst Maia continued to stare round at them all, not hearing a word of what was said.

...

The silence hung thickly over the cluster of Slytherin first years. The seconds seemed to drag by slowly.

Parkinson frowned, "What's wrong with all of you?"

Draco looked back up from his untouched plate and said tightly, "My Uncle Marius has died."

...

**Some of you saw this coming, some of you didn't. I hope you think that I've written it well. I'm really nervous about posting this and it was very difficult to write, so please let me know what you think. Also, let me know if you think I should increase the rating from a T. I'm not going to be writing anything dark or violent (well, until Voldemort comes back and I can't help that) but I don't want to have a misleading rating! **

**As it was such a short chapter, I'll update very soon. **


	34. You Live In This

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Trigger warning: grief and loss.**

Chapter Thirty Four

Deep, slow noises began to throb in Maia's eardrums. She shook her head. Everyone in the room was moving at odds speeds, slow then fast. Their limbs didn't bend naturally. Low, warped-sounding noises came out of Professor Snape's mouth.

Maia stared blankly. Professor Snape's lips continued to move, whilst she sat there frowning slightly at him.

Aunt Narcissa's shoulders moved up and down rapidly and Madam Pomfrey kept wrapping blankets around Maia.

"I'm sorry, Professor Snape, but I'm afraid I don't understand."

She heard Madam Pompfrey bustle some more. Maia was suddenly and inexplicably cold, given the warm day. Her hands shook and she could feel her teeth begin to chatter. Goosebumps stood out on the back of her arms.

Aunt Narcissa reached out and clasped her hand tightly. It hurt.

Professor Snape sat back in his own chair, looking unusually weary.

He sighed. "I am afraid, Miss. Black, that your father had a sudden heart attack and died in the early hours of this afternoon. He had been unwell for some time. Your aunt has come to collect you and will take you home to your mother directly. The house elves will pack your things and they'll be with you this evening." He paused and looked at her directly, "I am very sorry for your loss, Miss. Black."

Maia's mouth opened and closed. She wanted to tell her aunt to let go, because she was hurting her. She wanted to tell Madam Pompfrey to leave her alone. For some reason, she couldn't quite remember how to say those things.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't understand."

Professor Snape nodded slowly and she felt herself being directed towards the fireplace. She felt herself falling and found herself sprawled on her own living room floor. Shaking herself, she looked up.

Her Aunt Cassiopeia was staring resolutely out the window. Uncle Lucius was pulling Aunt Narcissa to her feet and hugging her against him. She felt the warm arms of her mother pull her closely and she fell against her, choking against her shoulder as her body shook with her tears.

...

When Maia woke up the next morning, her face was wet and sticky. She brushed her hand over her face and realised that she'd been crying. Her stomach suddenly dropped like a dead weight when the events of the day before came flooding back to her.

Dad was dead.

She sat up quickly, gasping for breath, as the panic made it hard to breathe. A cool hand reached out and wrapped itself around her own.

"Take a deep breath, Maia."

She did as she was told and slowly gained control over herself. Her hands were still shaking. She looked towards the voice and saw her Aunt Cassiopeia sat in a chair beside her bed. This was her aunt, however, as she had never seen her before. She was not wearing her Edwardian dresses with her stiff, starched collars. Her hair was not puffed up and powdered into a bun. She was wearing her nightdress and her dressing gown and her hair was loosely braided over her shoulder. She was slumped into her chair, as if she was exhausted or had only just woken herself.

Maia rubbed her eyes, "I don't understand..."

A small half smile passed across Cassiopeia's thin face and thin lips, "Your Aunt Narcissa put you to bed before she went home, but I heard you crying out in your sleep and came to settle you. I will be staying here again for a while, with you and Caroline."

Maia clutched her arms around her tightly, "I don't remember any of that, I'm sorry I woke you."

Cassiopeia shook her head firmly, "It is perfectly respectable to grieve for one's father."

Maia nodded as the tears stared to run down her face again, and Cassiopeia squeezed her hand.

"I can't believe he's gone." She whispered.

"Nor can I. They kept saying he was ill, and all I thought was that a Black could overcome anything."

Maia looked up, "How long was he ill for?" Her eyes were more sad than accusing.

"Since November."

Maia nodded, "They were trying to protect me."

"We all were."

"I wish you had said something."

"I know."

"I would have done things differently."

"Your father wouldn't have wanted that, though."

"I know."

"He wanted to spend his last few months with his daughter, not a little girl who followed him around, waiting for him to be gone."

She nodded again, the numbness and the shock starting to set in once more. "I know."

Cassiopeia squeezed her hand again, "He was too ill to meet you at Yuke as he'd just been in hospital, and he was in town to see a specialist at Easter. Your mother has been writing most of your letters as his hand was becoming less and less steady."

Maia stared at her clean, white duvet and bed sheets, not able to answer and asking herself why she had never realised.

He'd known he was going to die when they watched Old Man Time. He'd known he was going to die when he'd called her 'his best girl'. He'd known he was going to die when he'd ask her to fly for him at Easter. Why had she said no? She wondered if she could die from a broken heart? She wondered if she could die from guilt?

Not that that mattered now.

Her dad was dead.

She took another deep breath while Aunt Cassiopeia told her to get up and dressed while she went to check on Caroline.

...

The days passed oddly. Her mother spent most of her time sat in her room, or one of the drawing rooms, talking to Aunt Cassiopeia. Aunt Narcissa was often with them as well, and they said they were making the funeral arrangements. Maia heard her mother crying most of the time, so knew that that was not all that they were doing.

She wondered how they would have coped without Aunt Cassiopeia; she pulled them both out of bed each morning, made them get dressed, made them eat, made them wash and do their hair. She organised their days, giving Maia some task to do each morning and afternoon. She planned the funeral. She sent out the notices. She did everything, it seemed.

That morning, Maia had been sent to the piano. Cassiopeia had charmed it so that she could hear it throughout the house. Maia was not allowed to stop playing until lunch was served. She wanted to stop playing, she just wanted to sit on a chair and stare at the door and imagine her father walking through it. Though when she looked at the door from the grand piano, she couldn't imagine him anyway. She sighed and felt very dead inside. She couldn't feel her heart beating anymore. She didn't feel the need to talk or smile anymore. She didn't feel anything, no pain or sorrow or grief. She'd stopped crying days ago, now everything was blank and empty and numb. She wanted to cry or scream or shout, but she couldn't bring herself to do anything. She pressed the keys beneath her fingers mechanically and Chopin reverberated throughout the house.

A tapping at the window pulled her back to reality some time later. She marked the point where she had paused and walked over to open the latch. The owl flew in, quickly followed by another. She took both letters, addressed to her, and opened them. The birds left without waiting for a response.

_Dear Maia,_

_I'm sorry I haven't written before. I tried to write to you, I honestly did and the others tried to help a few times. I know it's awful of me, but I didn't know what to say. I wanted to write something to make you feel better, but I don't think there's anything I could say to do that. I wanted to write and tell you how sorry I am myself and how much I wish you weren't hurting at all, and how much I wish it hadn't happened, but I didn't know how to say any of that and it still sounds stupid now anyway._

_But it is all true and I'll always be here for you, always, even if I can't say or write the right thing._

_We are more than cousins, you are my sister, I swear it. _

_We're going home from school tomorrow, so I should be able to see you soon. I'm not sure how much you want to hear it, but I'll tell you the school news anyway. Perfect Potter went and broke about hundred school rules and fought the Dark Lord again. He won, though rather than being told off for charging around like a fool and putting his friends in danger (not that they're worth much as human beings, but still) he won a stupid amount of points from the old man and stole the House Cup from us at the leaving feast. Professor Snape was furious. We all got our exam results today, I did rather well in everything and even Vincent and Gregory will be able to come back next year. I think we might have to start tutoring them though. _

_I hope when I see you that you won't be too cross with me for sending such an awful letter, but it was better than nothing. All of us send you our condolences, even Parkinson and Bulstrode, who have started sitting with us now that you've said it was acceptable. Do let me know if they were lying and I'll make sure they regret it._

_Yours in blood,_

_Draco Malfoy._

She read the letter through again.

_We are more than cousins, you are my sister, I swear it._

For the first time in days, the tears pricked behind her eyes. She blinked them back but nodded as she read that line for a third time. Draco was her brother. He was right, he didn't know what to say, but then nobody did and he was right that she didn't care about school. She didn't care if Potter and Granger and the Weasel got themselves killed, she just wanted her father back.

The second letter bore the Hogwarts seal, rather than the Malfoy crest, and she saw that she'd been sent her exam results. She thought about ripping it apart, because she didn't want to know, didn't want to see, the results of the time she had wasted studying when she could have been with her father.

_Dear Miss. Black,_

_I am writing to inform you of your exam results for the academic year 1991-1992._

_Pass Grades: O – Outstanding, E – Exceeds Expectations, A – Acceptable._

_Fail Grades: P – Poor, D – Dreadful, T – Troll._

_Results_

_Astronomy, O_

_Charms, O_

_Herbology, O_

_History of Magic, O_

_Potions, O_

_Transfiguration, E_

_I am delighted to inform you that you placed first in Slytherin for the following classes:_

_Astronomy, Charms, Herbology, History of Magic and Potions._

_I am delighted to inform you that you placed first in your year group for the following classes:_

_Astronomy and Potions, with a joint first with Miss. Granger from Gryffindor for History of Magic. _

_I would also like to express my condolences for your recent loss._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress._

She screwed the letter into a ball and hurled it against the wall with a screech. She ran back to the piano and slammed her fists down on the keys again and again until she heard to door being flung open – slamming against the wall as it opened with such force – and felt herself being torn from the piano and held still. She struggled against Aunt Cassiopeia's firm grip and flung her fists wildly.

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" She yelled, writhing as her aunt gripped her tighter. "I hate all of you! I hate you! You should have told me! I hate you, you should have told me! I hate you!"

She screamed again as the tears started and her body started to shake. This was it. This was what she had gotten. This was all she had gotten. A piece of paper. A weak congratulation and an even weaker condolence. She screamed again and kept thrashing.

Her Aunt Narcissa walked over to the piece of paper of the floor, flattened it out and held it up for Cassiopeia.

"Your father would have been proud of you, very, very proud." Said Cassiopeia soothingly.

"I hate you!" she screamed. "I hate you! I don't care! I hate you! I wasted time! I hate you."

Narcissa sunk down into a nearby chair and buried her head in her hands, whilst Cassiopeia looked heavenwards to Salazar for strength and nodded.

"I know, I know. I understand."

...

The sun was out, shining through the stained glass windows, decorating the slab stone floors with lines of colours. The deep tones of the organ slowly faded out, though she'd barely noticed that it had been playing until it stopped. It was going to start soon.

The church was old and clearly muggle, but it was the church in the centre of their village, where they had gone as a family to have Maia christened, and where her mother had organised fetes, and where her father would now be buried and left to rot. Apparently that made it an appropriate place.

The coffin was laid out before the alter, bedecked with flowers.

Caroline had insisted on a muggle funeral.

Maia sat between her mother and Aunt Cassiopeia.

Aunt Cassiopeia had insisted on wearing witches' robes.

And Maia wished she could bring herself to laugh at the oddity.

The church was full. Some of the locals were even standing at the back, to pay their respect to the man from the big house. Neatly turned out executives and their wives filled one side of the church. They quietly mumbled their awkward condolences to their CEO's widow and daughter. The other side was filled with magical relatives, who had done a surprisingly good job of dressing like muggles. Uncle Lucius wore a pained expression in his dark business suit. Her cousins were there, with their parents. Aunt Irma was missing, of course, and Maia was pleased. She didn't want that woman here with her insincere grief.

Maia stared at the closed coffin, not quite sure how she could equate the silent box with her father: the father who she had loved and whose death had left an empty hole in her gut, which meant that she couldn't quite eat, or breath, or feel and which left her gasping suddenly for breath as the panic and fear and grief overwhelmed her. It had been worst during those first few days, and now she fought to keep herself under control. First she had been numb, and then she had screamed, but now she was just sad. But she was still a Black. She could survive this. Aunt Cassiopeia had held her and helped her. She could get through this.

Her mother's body shook with silent, dry sobs. She must have run out of tears.

Aunt Cassiopeia's face was expressionless. She looked at the coffin as though it were a puzzle which confused her.

The old vicar started to talk, droning on about a muggle God she didn't really know about. They stood up and sang songs. She didn't know the tune, or the words and she was struggling to make noise come out of her mouth at all.

A muggle in a business suit walked to the front of the church. He kept talking about how clever her father was, how well liked and well respected he was. It was dull and boring and the man he was talking about sounded nothing like the man who had fended off werewolves and who bought her broomsticks and who had taken her to Quidditch match after Quidditch match.

The same man she had told to go away because she wanted to study.

She wished she had a Time Turner. She'd go back and throw her books in the fire and spend every moment with her father.

There was another stupid song.

Someone said her name and she walked slowly to the front of the church, standing behind the pulpit. Her mother couldn't do this. Her aunt didn't want to. She would do it. She had said she could do it. She was the Heir, after all.

She'd written it herself, on one of the days when Aunt Cassiopeia had sent her to the library with a pile of books to read.

She opened her mouth to speak. Draco was holding his mother's hand. He nodded at her. She opened and closed her mouth again. She swallowed. Everyone was staring at her, but she didn't care. She just wanted to start talking and she couldn't make her voice work.

Finally, the words came out of her mouth, though her voice sounded hoarser than normal.

"Thank you for coming here today." She took a deep breath and blinked back tears as they started to fill her eyes again.

"I loved my father very much." The tears were really there now. "And it's very hard to say how much you love someone. I loved him so very much, but I can't really describe the feeling."

Her mother had buried her face in her hands.

Her own voice sounded slightly strangled. "It's the feeling that now that he's gone, everything is missing."

Tears were running down her cheeks as she looked down at her piece of paper, where all the lines were blurred. "But I've found a poem that I would like to read."

She took another deep breath, trying to steady herself. _"Not mar-... Not marble nor..."_

She looked down at the paper and clutched the pulpit, trying to hold herself upright. The sunlight glinted on her father's coffin and she started to shake with her own tears.

A warm hand covered her own and held it tightly, protectively, but gently. The paper moved slightly and she saw Draco standing next to her. He stood tall, straight backed, and she nodded at him to read when he looked at her questioningly.

He squeezed her hand again and his voice filled the room clearly.

"_Not marble, nor the gilded monuments _

_Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme,_

_But you shall shine more bright in these contents_

_Than unswept stone, besmear'd with sluttish time."_

Maia looked up at him gratefully, before seeing that her Aunt Cassiopeia had taken her mother's hands in her own. Ernie's face was tear-stained and Daphne was looking up at the ceiling and blinking rapidly.

"_When wasteful war shall statues overturn,_

_And broils root out the work of masonry,_

_Nor Mars his sword, nor war's quick fire shall burn_

_The living record of your memory."_

As the light danced on the floor, Maia wondered if her father were listening to them, if he had somehow found a way to listen. She still couldn't believe he was gone. She couldn't believe that he couldn't hear her.

"'_Gainst death, and all oblivious enmity_

_Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room_

_Even in the eyes of all posterity_

_That wear this world out to the ending doom."_

She looked over to the church door, blinking through her own tears, and in the haze, fancied that she saw her father leaning against the frame. He looked healthy and happy. He was clapping for her and Draco, and brushing down his smartly tailored suit. His smile was wide and his eyes were laughing.

"_So, till the judgement that yourself arise,_

_You live in this, and dwell in lovers' eyes."_

...

**Sonnet 55 was written by William Shakespeare and is, like all his works, in the public domain. Or at least, I believe it to be in the public domain. It does not belong to me, any more than Harry Potter does. **

**As for all the first years being upset in the last chapter, although Cassiopeia tutored them, they all knew Marius and Caroline as well. After all, Maia's rather dramatic 7****th**** birthday was not the only party Marius and Caroline would have thrown. So, I assumed that they would all be upset, though Draco most of all, as he and Maia have always been together and with each other's families. Tracey and Blaise were feeling upset and awkward because their friends were sad, whilst Bulstrode and Parkinson were, of course, oblivious.**

**Thank you for all the very kind reviews from the last chapter, I really appreciated them as I was so nervous. Once again, this chapter was very difficult to write and I really hope you think I got it right. Please let me know what you think.**

**Really sorry for the long A/N.**


	35. But You Can't Live Like This

**I do not own Harry Potter, no copyright infringement is intended. I only write for fun and make no money from this story.**

**Trigger Warning: grief and loss.**

Chapter Thirty Five

Narcissa, Lucius and Draco Malfoy had changed back into wizarding robes after they returned from the wake. When they sat down to dinner, Draco pushed his food around his plate.

"You know better than to play with your food, Draco." Said his father sharply.

He nodded and began to eat.

"Leave him be, Lucius. It's been a hard day for us all."

"I'm pleased to be out of those ridiculous clothes." Said Lucius, breaking the soft, white bread with his hands and dipping it into his soup.

Narcissa nodded, "Yes, muggle fashion is a little... close-fitting for my taste." Lucius nodded in agreement, no respectable witch would wear her hem quite as short as those muggles were at the funeral, "But Cousin Caroline wished for a muggle funeral and a local resting place, one can hardly complain at that."

"Hardly." Replied her husband tartly, though he quelled at her sharp look. He had accepted this muggle-esque intrusion into his life many years ago, and it was too late to complain of it now.

Draco went back to pushing his food around with his spoon.

Narcissa abandoned her place at the table – her husband raised an eyebrow – and walked over to her son. She stroked his pale blonde hair and kissed his cheek lightly. "I was very proud of you today and what you did for Maia. I am not sure when you turned into such a good young man, or when I missed it, but I am very proud of you regardless."

She gave her husband another pointed look.

"Yes, what you did was an honourable act, worthy of the Heir to the House of Malfoy... It was very gracious."

Draco nodded, "Thank you, father."

Narcissa stroked his hair again, "You were very brave."

When he continued to toy with his food, she leant closer, "Would you like to be excused?"

He nodded quickly and fled the room. He knew his uncle was only a Squib, but he had still been his uncle. He had still been his blood, he had still raised Maia, still given him his favourite cousin, his sister, had still spoiled him, showered him with gifts at Yule and on his birthday, still taken him to see Quidditch, still given him a kind word when father had been too stern.

And now he was gone.

...

Irma Black, however, could not say that she was sorry her brother-in-law had passed away. To her, it was neither here nor there. In fact, she was rather pleased. She no longer had to pretend that he didn't exist, because he didn't. She had said as much to Druella, who had of course agreed with her entirely. She presumed that the girl and his wife were sad, and Cassiopeia was probably in mourning as well, but there was their problem, and more fool them. It was no concern of hers if a filthy muggle was weeping, or if a piece Squib-spawn was wailing, or if a blood-traitor was crying.

She highly doubted that she would be included in the will – not that she wanted any dirty muggle gold – so she wasn't interested on that level either.

She was pleased that there had been no announcement of the death in the Prophet, so perhaps Cassiopeia had not lost all her taste. She had written to Cassiopeia to inform her of as much, but had only received the tart response that Caroline had wanted it in the muggle papers instead and that they had privately written to their magical friends, not because Marius was a Squib, but because they had no intention of indulging in a public display of emotion.

...

Albus Dumbledore was relaxing in his small, rented holiday home on the Cornish coast. As he looked out of the window, he could see a group of tanned, athletic-looking muggles running across the beach, carrying boards above their heads, before charging into the water. Of course, he was rather high up on the hill and looking below, so they seemed very small and he couldn't see their faces, but he presumed that they were laughing and enjoying themselves.

However, Albus Dumbledore was not really thinking about muggles with boards playing in the sea, as he was in something of a quandary. He had been since before the leaving feast.

He had always intended for Harry to go after the stone. However, he had not intended for the boy to be almost killed in the process. He wanted him to learn his loyalties, and to test his strength and bravery. Dumbledore sighed, he knew that his plans for the boy were very wrong, but it was for the greater good. He did care for the boy deeply, and if he could ever find a way to save him, he would. But he couldn't let one child stop him from atoning for his own past sins. He had to stand against Dark Magic until his dying day.

Which bought him to the second child who was troubling him.

He had taken Annie Black to Marius and Caroline with the knowledge that while she would probably be pampered and spoilt, she would be raised mainly in the muggle world and that she would come to love and respect it. He had hoped that she would never find out her true blood status, and that while she might know of the Black family history, she would always despise it for having made her and her (adoptive) father outcasts.

He was right; she had been pampered and spoilt, not only by Marius and Caroline, but by Cassiopeia Black, and the Malfoys and the Greengrass' and the Macmillans. She had had barely any contact with the muggle world since the age of five and loved and respected the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black far more than he considered healthy. She had even been made the Heir. He had met the girl, and while he did not think she was a Dark witch, he saw very little to stop her following that path in the future. She might love her mother and father, that much was clear, but it would not take much to convince her that a Dark life would protect them from other, evil and dirty, muggles who would attack them for their acceptance of magic.

Now that her father was dead, she would become even closer to Cassiopeia Black. Dumbledore did not really believe that Caroline was capable of standing up to Cassiopeia, or even able to realise what she was about. The child's future looked very Dark indeed.

And yet what could he do?

Remus had alienated himself from the family entirely and Cassiopeia would probably kill him on sight. They had enough gold to have the Ministry turn the other way, and she could easily claim it was self-defence as the werewolf had 'attacked' and 'infiltrated' their family in the past.

While he did not think even Cassiopeia would kill _him_, she would certainly never allow him to remove the child from their care. She would never allow a Daughter of the House of Black – yet alone the Heir – to be placed in the care of Albus Dumbledore, the infamous muggle lover.

He sighed, knowing that he could not control the whole world. If he managed his plan successfully, it would not matter if Maia Black did become Dark, because the Light would triumph nevertheless.

He sighed once again when he considered the price that would cost.

...

The curtains were drawn in Caroline's room. Before, it had been Caroline and Marius' room. But now it was just Caroline's room. She sobbed harder when she remembered that. It had been two weeks since the funeral now. The will had been read, and, as they had known, Marius had left his finances in perfect order. They did not owe a penny. There was not a single debt to the Black name. The money was safely organised and she would never have to worry. Money had been set aside for Maia's tuition, and any further education she may wish to undertake as Marius had secretly wished that she would follow both her parents to Cambridge. She had a very large trust fund, in muggle money, separate to the rest of her inheritance as the Heir of the House of Black. She would never want for anything, and would have to work very hard to diminish her wealth.

Not that Caroline cared about any of this.

The man who had been at her side since she was little more than a girl herself, was now gone.

She had never imagined a future without him, and now that she tried, she couldn't. The world didn't make sense if he wasn't in it, and she didn't want it to either.

...

Cassiopeia had not yet left Marius' home. She was sat bolt upright in her own room, listening to Maia perform Debussy from the grand piano in the drawing room below. She was still setting Maia tasks. She would be studying History of Magic tomorrow morning, and Transfiguration tomorrow afternoon. She would pull herself back up to an 'O'. The day after that they would be visiting Narcissa, and then the day after that they would go to Diagon Alley to add to their mourning wardrobe, since Maia would enter partial mourning halfway through the winter term at Hogwarts.

She was sewing, her task for this afternoon was to sew.

She ought to return to her own home soon, but she couldn't bring herself to do so.

A single tear slid down her cheek, which she quickly brushed away. She would not be so weak. She had made her bed and she would lie in it. Long ago, when she was just a girl, well, a young woman, she had had a choice. She could have chosen to break away and live her own life, or she could do what was expected of her and obey her parents. She had chosen the latter, and for many reasons, she had stuck to the Black family line with the devotion of a zealot.

It was too late to be sorry for it now.

In truth, she was not sorry for her ideals. Throughout her life they had been a source of comfort and strength. She was only sorry that blood – and blood alone – was less important than the purity of the aforementioned blood.

She had abandoned her brother.

And she had wasted so many years, so many, many years, because of that. And because of that, any grief she had, any love she felt, would always be tainted with guilt, betrayal and the appearance of insincerity.

And she couldn't believe that this was what it had come to. And she couldn't believe that she, Cassiopeia Black, had failed, had made a mistake and must now pay the price. She couldn't leave her brother's house because the she would have to admit that her brother was gone, and she had no way of ever truly telling him how she now felt. Even when they had told her his condition, and his prognosis, she had not breathed a word.

And now what were their lives like?

They couldn't live like this.

None of them could live like this.

It wasn't healthy.

She stood up, shook her skirts and marched over to Caroline's room. While Maia might be able to get out of bed in the morning, and be trusted to make it through the day, the same could not be said for Caroline. Although she was grieving, which was acceptable, she was also wallowing, which was not.

Cassiopeia pushed the bedroom door over and found Caroline curled up on her bed, huddled over one of Marius' old shirt.

She shook her head.

"Things can't go on like this, Caroline."

Caroline glared at her, but made no other response.

"It has almost been a month."

Caroline's glare only increased, "What is a month, when I have loved him all my life?"

Cassiopeia nodded, "That doesn't make this behaviour healthy. Maia needs you."

Caroline looked as though she were in physical pain, "I know, I'm failing her..."

"That's not what this is about though, all of us are failing each other. I sit in my room and sew, you curl up here are cry all day and Maia performs her duties with a commendable diligence, but without any spark of life and I have no intention of allowing the Heir to the House of Black to become insipid, lifeless or dull. None of us are acting in a healthy way, and I personally blame us all, and this house."

Caroline sat up straight, "I'm not going to pretend you're lying." She sniffed, and her voice sounded hoarse from lack of use expect to wail or cry, "But we aren't leaving. This is our home. Things will get better, we will get better, and we can't leave Marius." She raised her chin, "You can leave, if you wish, but I will not."

"So if I leave, and when Maia goes back to school, you will be happy here, surrounded by memories of your dead husband, day in and day out?"

"Better memories than nothing at all."

"Do you really believe that?"

Caroline refused to respond, and Cassiopeia fixed her with her own stair. "As my sister-in-law, you are part of the House of Black, and I am currently Head of House. I demand that you listen to me. We will not remain here. We require a fresh start. I, personally, have no desire to live alone at this time in my life, and you are not to be allowed to live alone. We have enough wallowing widows in the House of Black and one more would make us ridiculous. It doesn't set a good example to Maia. We shall all vacate this house and reside in another of our properties."

Caroline glared at her, "I will not have my life dictated to me."

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow. Without Caroline realising, she had dictated much of her life to her. "Even when it is in your own interests, and, more importantly, the interests of your daughter?"

She was laying it on a bit thick there, but she knew she was right. They all had to leave. She couldn't fall into self-pity over her brother now that he was gone.

Caroline finally relented and Cassiopeia nodded her approval.

"I shall arrange an appointment with the Goblins, where we can view our property portfolio."

...

Caroline held onto Maia's hand tightly, as Cassiopeia led the way through the main hall of Gringotts.

She walked up to the head goblin and looked at him expectantly. The goblin bowed deeply and said something in Gobbledegook, to which Cassiopeia responded in the same tongue. He climbed down from his stall, bowed deeply, and led them towards a set of side doors.

This was why they learned Gobbledegook. The goblins might be necessary evils, but they were dangerous and powerful. It was beneficial to remain on good terms with them. They appreciated the effort to learn their language, and it always ensured better service. That, and the fact that the Black family had been banking with them since 200 BC, was why the goblins were much friendlier – if a goblin could be friendly – to these customers than any other.

Maia was pleased that she could understand the majority of the conversation that her aunt and the goblin were holding, although some to the declensions confused her and some of the vocabulary was new. Still, her Gobbledegook was tolerably good and she would have time to improve before she was required to do business with the goblins alone. Of all of them, it had been Daphne and Ernie who had had the real talent for languages.

The walls were dark and panelled, lit by open flames which flickered in their fire brackets. They walked for what felt like a very long time, in a perfectly straight line, before reaching the end of the corridor and finding themselves faced with another set of double doors. Two goblins stood guard either side and leapt forward to open the doors ahead of them, so that the head goblin and his guests did not have to pause or even slow down their walk.

The room they entered was oddly decorated. The walls were panelled with ebony wood, as the rest of the corridor had been. There was an extremely large desk at the centre of one end of the wide room, whilst a coffee table surrounded by plush, black velvet arm chairs was situated off to one side. On the walls hung a number of oil paintings, whilst various stands were adorned with expensive-looking vases, golden plates and silver ornaments. Marble statues and suits of glittering armour were dotted around the room, whilst Caroline also tried to avoid looking at the decapitated heads of witches and wizards that were placed on spikes sticking out from the walls. Their expressions were all very pained.

The goblin caught where her eyes had taken her.

"They are the fools who have tried to steal from Gringotts. We have to do something with them." The glint in his eye was the only thing that betrayed his glee at this statement.

"Oh." said Caroline quietly, wondering if decapitation was standard practise in the magical world. She had though Cassiopeia's habit of displaying the heads of former House Elves was a personal, familial oddity.

He directed them to the arm chairs and offered them refreshments.

"No thank you." Said Cassiopeia, "We are here for business today, rather than pleasure. I also request that we conduct our business today in English rather than Gobbledegook, for the benefit of my sister-in-law. My niece," she said, gesturing to Maia, "is of course proficient already."

The goblin bowed, "Of course, Madam Black. I shall bring your property portfolio directly."

He clicked his finger and a large folder appeared on the table. Caroline leant closer to a better look.

The goblin – Anrek – turned the first page.

"Of course, Madam Black, Black House is your current home, and while an impressive property, we do not need to consider that as you are already living there."

Cassiopeia laughed politely, as that would have been considered a very funny joke by a goblin, who were not famed for their humour.

"The Bavarian Castle is currently home to Mrs. Druella Black, while the French Chalet and the Russian Dacha were sold off in 1981."

Cassiopeia's face turned impressively furious, whilst Anrek made an unrepentant bow in her direction, "I am merely explaining the portfolio in full, to ensure all parties besides yourself are aware of all transactions."

Cassiopeia's lip curled, not pleased to be reminded of the sacrifices she had had to make to keep Lucius out of Azkaban and at least ensure Bellatrix received a trial. She had had no such luck when it came to Sirius, but then that was hardly to be wondered at. He had blown up a street full of muggles and de facto murdered the Potters. At least Bellatrix had had the good sense to make sure that there were no witnesses to her crimes, beyond the two who could never bear testimony.

Caroline and Maia, who did not know this, were merely surprised that the family had ever had to sell something. They supposed some roguish younger son had once gambled a great deal.

"That then leaves you with a number of options. If you would prefer to move abroad, you have a villa in Tuscany at your disposal and a very luxurious apartment in New York-"

"I have _no intention_ of moving to America. It is a horrid place. I have no idea why my great grandfather ever purchased that property. Everyone there is new money, and it shows plainly." She sniffed. "Even the best of them have _only_ made their fortune in the last three hundred years, would you believe? It's all very distasteful." She said all of this as though such things were an insult to humankind which she found personally offensive.*****

The goblin nodded, "Naturally, Madam Black. That is the extent of your properties abroad, although you also have a number of options within the United Kingdom."

"There is, of course, Black Manor. It's very well defended, all the latest wards, very remote. And, of course, it is the usual seat of the Head of House."

Caroline smiled, "That sounds very nice, why did you move there before?"

Cassiopeia shrugged, "It's a castle in the middle of nowhere in the Scottish highlands. Besides, I am only the _Acting_ Head of House."

"Well," continued Anrek, "You also have a very expansive estate in North Wales, and a number of smaller country houses near to Ottery St. Catchpole, Godric's Hollow, Upper Flagley and Appleby. These have traditionally been used by the lesser branches of the family, younger sons and such, but if you are looking to move to a more manageable property, these would suit your needs quite adequately. They are all part of, or near to, wizarding communities. All of these are rural properties, so if you were looking for somewhere more central, Number 12 Grimmauld Place in London is also an option."

Cassiopeia nodded slowly, whilst Caroline leant back in her chair, more at ease than she had been before. Whilst she was usually completely at home in the magical world these days, wealth and money had always been her most comfortable topics. As the daughter of a baronet, she had been accustomed to such things from an early age.

"We should not rule out our muggle options, which could easily be modified to suit our magical needs. There is the house in the south of France, as well as my own ancestral home. Whilst we _are_ looking to downsize, there is still the dower house and the old vicarage we could consider."

Cassiopeia smiled. It was moment like this that reminded her why she approved of, and did not just tolerate, Caroline.

Maia started to look over the moving images of the properties, which provided the viewer of a tour of the house. "Grimmauld Place looks like it could suit our needs, and it might be nice to be closer to Diagon Alley."

Caroline took a closer look, "Yes, but wouldn't you miss the chance to fly?"

Maia did not respond.

Cassiopeia brushed her skirts imperiously, "I think it would be rather bad taste to move in there. It was the familial home of Sirius Orion Black, the official Head of House, who is currently imprisoned in Azkaban. I have instructed the house elf there to maintain its condition, but it might raise a few eyebrows were we to live in a house that housed the Dark Lord's most loyal servant."

Cassiopeia was gratified to see that Caroline had paled considerably at that statement. Of course, Cassiopeia had no qualms about living there, but she presumed that Maia would not appear on the family tree, at least not in the correct place. That was also her reason to discount Black Manor, as that was where the official family tree was kept, where family members could not be burnt off because Walburga had been in a bad mood. Maia was definitely not listed in the right place there, and would not be listed under the correct name. She could count on Caroline to agree with her, because Caroline would not want to take Maia to the home of her birth father.

Caroline nodded quickly, "Yes, I think we can discount that option."

"I quite agree. I do feel that a rural property and a quieter pace of life would suit us both. I am also of the opinion that we should rule out Ottery St. Catchpole. The place has gone to the kneazles in recent years. We'd be living next to those ghastly, prejudiced Weasleys and the ridiculous Lovegoods. And I highly doubt that you want to be a neighbour to Amos Diggory, the man who threatened you both."

"Absolutely not!" said Maia and Caroline in unison.

Anrek cleared his throat, "Well, that leaves you with Upper Flagley, Appleby and Godric's Hollow. Godric's Hollow is a very well situated house in the West Country, which would not be far from your current abode in Somerset, Mrs. Black." He made a small bow in the direction of Caroline, who had recently risen in his estimations. Anrek always liked people who had lots of money to invest. He pushed the images towards them. The house was large, with a square, flat front and built with yellow, Bath sandstone. It was decorated in a very grand manor, with high-backed furniture. The heads of house elves lined the walls and Dark objects were clearly visible throughout.

"This used to be the home of Mr. and Mrs. Cygnus Black, with their three daughters. The property as been vacant for about eleven years, but has been maintained in a good condition with the use of magic."

Cassiopeia smiled, "I am quite fond of this property, it used to be dear Narcissa's childhood home. And an old acquaintance of mine, Bathilda Bagshot, lives nearby. I should like to renew our old friendship."

Caroline shook her head, "It would take a lot of work to make suitable for Maia, I'm sure." Caroline's line of vision was currently focussed on a large ornament that appeared to be constructed of shrunken, pickled heads in the middle of the main drawing room. "And if it was the home of Narcissa, would it not also have been the home of her sister Bellatrix? Perhaps we should continue to avoid Death Eater properties?"

A brief flash of annoyance crossed Cassiopeia's face, but she recovered herself quickly.

"Perhaps you are right, Caroline. And we did want a clean break. I think we should consider the properties in the north of England, Upper Flagley and Appleby. Both have been vacant for a number of years."

Maia had pulled the portfolio towards her, "I like the house in Upper Flagley."

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow. "That used to belong to Alphard Black." She said this archly as though it was supposed to convey some meaning.

"So? I know he was disowned, but he wasn't a Death Eater."

"What did he do?" asked Caroline.

Cassiopeia shook her head, "It doesn't matter. Let's just say that he was a bit free with his money in his will." She looked at the property, "I must say though, it is much nicer than I expected."

Caroline agreed, mainly because Maia had smiled for the first time in days. Perhaps Cassiopeia was right, perhaps they did need a fresh start, something new to focus on? She did have to build a new life, and that would be easier if she didn't see dear Marius in every room of the house.

And she did have to admit, the property was certainly a very pleasing sight.

...

*** That was not a bit of genuine anti-Americanism on my part, Cassiopeia would **_**definitely**_** think like that. : ) Also, happy 4****th**** of July to any American readers (even if it is a little belated). **


	36. Black Rose House

**Once again, I do not own Harry Potter.**

Chapter Thirty Six

Black Rose House, situated just outside of Upper Flagley and surrounded by the rolling green landscape of the Yorkshire dales, had been empty since the death of its last inhabitant, Alphard Black. However, as it had been preserved by magic, Trixie had not had too much work to do to get it ready for its new owners. In fact, her load had been made even lighter as Aunt Cassiopeia's personal house elf, Tinky, would be joining them in their new home.

Black Rose House was a large, country house, built with bright red bricks. It was very long, with gleaming white washed window frames and black roses that had been trained to grow up over the door. The grounds were not as large as those Maia had grown up with, but still included a lake with a boathouse and an orchard. A perfectly kept green lawn lay out in front of the house, with a wide, cobbled pathway leading up to the front door. Behind the house was a walled rose garden, from which the house took its name. The roses were charmed to bloom all year round. Although the rare black roses were the most numerous in number, roses of all varieties bloomed in the garden, and were picked daily and littered every room of the house in brightly coloured vases.

The decor channelled a very rustic spirit, but the layout was still grand. The armchairs were holstered simply, but were nevertheless as comfortable as any others in the Black family. The floors were wooden, but were covered with many rugs. Copper pans gleamed in the kitchen and every room in the house smelled of flowers. All in all, the house gave of an air of country-living and luxury combined.

Three rooms had been set aside to serve the ladies as their en suite bedrooms, whilst a further room and been set aside upstairs as a second, quieter drawing room. Most of the rest of the upstairs and been turned into one room and served as a library, although a number of guest rooms were maintained as well. Cassiopeia had overseen the transportation of the books, and the most useful and important items of their collection were there for ease of access. The downstairs drawing room also contained a pianoforte bought over from Godric's Hollow, as both Cassiopeia and Caroline only possessed grand pianos, which were too large for their new home. Much of the furniture had been there before their arrival, but they had all bought their favourite pieces.

A precious family portrait, made just before Maia left for Hogwarts, showed Marius, Caroline and Maia all together and hung in the main hallway which led into the house.

Now that they had all arrived, and taken the tea Tinky and Trixie had laid out in the dining room for them, Maia excused herself to find her own room. She walked through the house and came to her room. It was decorated in a mixture of cream and ivory colours. Family pictures were dotted around in delicate silver frames and a vase of the palest pink roses sat in the window, in a matching vase. A small Slytherin banner hung on one of the walls. The room was very mature and grown-up. It was sophisticated and she quickly decided that she liked this. Her old bedroom had been very childish and she'd covered it with Slytherin scarves and banners. She didn't want to be childish at all any more, such exuberance would require too much effort in her current frame of mind. She sat down in her rocking chair and looked back at the open door. It was very odd to think that her father would never walk into the room, would never pose for another picture with her, would never praise her for her grades.

She was very tired and weary all of a sudden.

...

The days went by slowly, although Cassiopeia was a driving force of energy. She spent much of time directing Trixie and Tinky as they re-arranged and re-arranged the furniture. Cassiopeia would not allow anyone to say their standards had dropped. The house might be smaller, but it was no less elegant than anywhere else she had ever lived.

Maia looked out of her window, shuffling her Tarot cards. She spent many hours doing this, until Cassiopeia found her and sent her out to paint, or draw, or tend to the roses, or her herbology patch, or set her a new spell to master. She sighed, running her fingers along the edges of the card. She had spent all year predicting death and destruction. Had she Seen the evil lurking in Hogwarts then, under the turban of Professor Quirrell? Or had she Seen her own impending loss?

And would she ever really know?

...

Caroline was in her room as well, although she was gradually spending less and less time there. She spent most of her days helping to organise the house, or visiting Narcissa. The two women went shopping to Diagon Alley a number of times, and Maia had plenty of dresses to see her through the mourning period. At this moment, she was looking through a series of old photographs, which she had neatly arranged into albums throughout her marriage.

There was an old, fading black and white photo of her, Marius and their university friends running across the Cambridge lawns for a dare whilst they were undergraduates.

There was another picture of them both celebrating after their finals.

They stood side by side after their wedding.

Then pictures of them as they lived in America, whilst exotic holidays abroad also featured heavily.

Then there was one of her favourite photos, take just a few months after Maia landed on their doorstep. Her hair was bright blue, Maia was grinning in her arms, Marius had his arm around her, and Trixie was a small blur in the corner of the picture where she had run to join them after setting the timer on the camera, but her small legs hadn't carried her fast enough to join them all in time. They'd used a muggle camera, and the image, the joy and the happiness – were frozen in that moment forever. She wished she could have that moment back.

Then there was a change, as the pictures began to move.

Maia flew (rather slowly) around the garden on her old Shooting Star as Trixie looked on. Marius must have taken the picture because she was fairly certain she had been hiding in her room at the time, too scared to watch.

Then there was a family photo at a Quidditch match. She had to admit that she looked fairly green in that one. Maia and Marius were waving their omnioculars enthusiastically at the camera.

Then there was Christmas from this year. Maia and Draco were playing snap together as she, Narcissa, Marius and Lucius looked on.

Caroline sighed again and lifted her hand to brush the tears from her eyes, only to find that they were dry and that she had a small smile on her face instead. She was by no means happy, and she still felt as though a large part of her world had be torn away from her, but Cassiopeia was right, she had to keep going for Maia's sake, if not her own.

...

Lucius Malfoy left Borgin and Burkes quickly, his feet and his cane rapping on the cobbled pavements, as he dragged his protesting son by the scruff of his neck.

The selling-off of their Darker objects, as his wife had requested, had led to an increase in the number of Dark items being available on the black market. Interfering fools like the blood traitor Arthur Weasley were using this as an excuse to carry out raids against those with 'dubious' records, such as himself. Of course, they had not found anything. Firstly, because he had already sold off (for a very tidy sum) many of their most questionable possessions, and secondly, because men whose blundering incompetence rivalled that of their own Minister for Magic would never be able to find all the secret rooms and hidden passageways in Malfoy Manor.

Nevertheless, the prospect on an intrusion into his home made him uneasy and he was eager to have all his business completed.

And a son who would poke and prod anything within his reach, and get himself killed in the process, was too much for his already strained nerves.

That, and the dark blue diary felt like a led weight in his inner pocket.

Dare he defy his master?

Dare he give away his master's possessions? His master's secrets?

Dare he unleash an unknown, yet powerful and magical, entity upon the unsuspecting wizarding world? He had no idea what this diary was, or what it did. He had taken it from his master, hidden it, and never taken it up again until his wife had asked him to purge their home.

Did he dare?

...

A few hours later, the same man left Flourish and Blotts, smoothed down his robes, and tried to settle the sickening nerves in his stomach.

He was not usually so... discomposed.

Yet Arthur Weasley was a stupid little man who had been provoking him since he was a first year, and the red-head was a vindictive, jumped-up prefect with delusions of power.

His little brat would no doubt hand the diary over to her father sooner or later, and Weasley would have to deal with the embarrassment of explaining he had picked up a Dark object in a second hand bookshop, and had then given it to a small child, without once realising what the object in question was. It could not be traced back to him now, and he would finally have some sort of revenge against that foul, horrid little man.

Yet he still felt somewhat nervous.

Draco distracted him, wanting to be taken to the Quidditch store. Of course, he was refused. When his son protested, he cuffed him roundly with his cane. The boy had to learn. And he had already given him – and the rest of the Slytherin team – Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones.

No, they were going home and they were going home right away.

...

Cassiopeia paced her room restlessly. It was early in the morning, though she felt hot and sticky as the cool morning breeze drifted through her open window. The gentle sunlight was as infuriating as the moonlight and starlight had been. Her eyes were slightly red and bloodshot, and her eyelids hung heavily and listlessly. She shook herself, walked over to her dresser, and poured herself a teaspoon of pepper-up-potion. She shook herself again and looked at her reflection in the mirror. There was definitely and improvement.

...

To any observer who did not know the private grief and anguish of the three inhabitants of Black Rose House, it would have appeared that they all passed an idyllic summer.

In fact, they did a rather good job of convincing each other that they were coping rather well. Although Maia was more public in her sorrow – not that she spent days crying or sulking, but that she was much quieter generally, and showed no interest in flying or mischief making, and preferred to quietly tend the roses in their garden, or go for long walks – it could probably be argued that she was, in fact, coping the best.

Caroline was truly struggling, but although many seemed to doubt her strength, she was a woman of great fortitude. She was not happy, but that did not mean that she was about to roll over and let life win. She rolled up her sleeves (metaphorically, of course) and threw herself into her new, local branch of the Women's Institute.

Cassiopeia was all drive and energy. She carried on her days with an unrelenting and unceasing alacrity.

She taught Maia a number of the simpler Black curses, as she had promised.

She wrote a number of articles for well-respected magical journals.

She re-organised the family finances and investments with Anrek.

She made sure that Marius's death was kept as quiet as possible in the magical world, so that no undesirable werewolf tried to pay them a visit.

She was a very busy woman.

Although the pace of life in the elegant house was generally rather quiet, they were regularly called upon by the closes relatives, the Malfoys. They were also visited by the Macmillans, the Greengrass', the Goyles and the Crabbes. Maia was also pleased to find out that their nearest neighbours were the Davis family, and she and Tracey spent more time together over the summer, along with Daphne who was a regular visitor to the Davis family as she and Tracey were clearly best friends.

On the whole, they made it through the summer holidays, but it was clear that all of their lives had changed irrevocably.

...

**Reviews would be lovely and greatly appreciated. **

**Next chapter – Second Year! (and one year closer to Sirius' return!). **


	37. Cassiopeia's Secret

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Trigger warning: grief. **

Chapter Thirty Seven

Of course, young gentlemen like Draco Malfoy did not pack their own trunks. However, they did sit in their rooms checking that their foul house elf had done a good job. He had just finished his inspection and was in the process of locking the trunk when his father strode into the room.

Instantly, he jumped to his feet and bowed deeply in his father's direction. Lucius Malfoy inclined his head and Draco stood still, with his hands clasped behind his back, awaiting further instruction.

"I wish to speak to you, Draco."

"I am always at your disposal, father."

"As you should be." Lucius Malfoy began to pace the room. His cane rapped on the floor and Draco eyed it nervously. Logically, Lucius knew that everything was safe, and that Weasley had already uncovered the diary. But in the pit of his stomach was the fear that he had not. He had duties as the Head of his House, and duties as a father, all of which must be fulfilled. He had to protect his son, even if he didn't know what he was protecting him from.

"I believe issues of blood purity may arise in the upcoming school year. Perhaps the mudbloods will learn their place. You are not to get involved."

"But don't you want me to help put the mudblood Granger in her place?"

Lucius's eyes bulged, "Are you speaking out of turn, Draco."

Draco stared at the floor, "No father."

"Good. If an issue should arrive, you will stay out of it."

"Yes father, I will not involve myself."

...

As they were now such near neighbours, the Davis family and the Black family travelled to Kings Cross Station together.

Mr. and Mrs. Davis held Tracey close to them before they allowed her to board the train. "The house always feels so empty when you're at school." Sighed her mother, as she finally let Tracey go.

"It won't be long until Yule, mum, and I'll write you loads of letters again."

Her mother smiled, "Yes, you are a very good correspondent. It makes me feel so young again to be back in the loop with all the Hogwarts gossip."

Mother and daughter chuckled together, before Daphne Greengrass – who had somehow become even prettier over the summer – dragged her towards the train. Astoria Greengrass held her own mother's hand, proclaiming that it wasn't fair that she had to wait another two years before she too could board the train.

Off to one side, Maia, Caroline and Cassiopeia said their goodbyes. Cassiopeia's speech was much the same as last year, although Caroline cried much more than she had last time. None of them pointed out that the extra tears probably resulted from the fact that last time they had had this conversation, there had been a further addition to their party.

For the first time, Maia cried as she parted with her mother and clung to her until the very last second, when the whistle of the train blew.

"I love you so much, mum."

"I love you too."

"You will write, won't you?"

"Of course, all the time."

"And be careful, won't you, mum?"

Caroline nodded, "And you look after yourself as well. Don't go getting into any trouble, Narcissa told be about the antics of some Gryffindors in your year at the end of last term. I don't want you mixing with reckless children like that."

Maia nodded, "I won't mum. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too."

When the train whistle blew again, Cassiopeia dragged Maia across the platform and pushed her onto the train, levitating her trunk in after her. "I'll have no more of this nonsense. You'll be perfectly fine once you get there, now behave yourself. I'm sure Draco's already looking for you."

With that, Cassiopeia turned on her heel, marched back to Caroline, grabbed hold of her and vanished with an almost silent 'pop'.

As usual, Cassiopeia was absolutely correct. Before Maia had collected herself together and turned around, Draco had appeared and tucked his arm into her own and directed Vincent and Gregory to carry her trunk.

"We've got a compartment to ourselves," he said, leading her along the carriage, "and I've told them all that you're to have the choice of the seats." He said, with a commanding incline of his head.

Maia shook her head, "Draco, I don't want special treatment."

"Too bad, you're my favourite cousin and Heir to the House of Black, special treatment is all you're ever going to get."

"Yes, but I don't want it to be because of _it_."

Draco nodded, "I know, I'm sorry. Think of it this way, there's not a chance that you're going to be anything _but_ the Queen of Slytherin by the time we graduate and you're already the most important girl in our House year group. You _ought_ to boss people around and take their seats."

Before she knew it, a bark-like laugh escaped from her lips.

"That's better." Said Draco, his whole face lighting up. Maia had been far too silent throughout the holidays.

"Well, I always intended to be the Slytherin _Princess_, but Queen sounds much better, I think."

"Well it's true. You've got the most money, the most significant inheritance, the fastest brain and the quickest tongue, after me, of course."

"That could just as easily be Daphne."

Draco shook his pale head again, "Nope, I've got her pegged as the Ice Queen of Slytherin, breaking every heart she can until she marries the richest of us. Besides, she's not the Heir to the House of Greengrass. Her father isn't even its Head, you know he was the younger son."

Maia smiled at this, though didn't laugh automatically and didn't have it in her to force it out of herself. Sometimes things just seemed to take too much effort, these days.

By this time, they were in sight of the compartment. Just as they reached the door, Draco pointed out, although it was already clearly obvious, that Parkinson and Bulstrode were in the compartment with them. "Although you can evict them if you want." He said, just as Blaise stood and opened the door for them.

It was perfectly clear that the two girls in question had heard him.

However, although she still disliked the girls, this was now tinged with pity and Maia had no intention of fighting with them if she could help it. She was hoping for a quiet year.

She nodded politely at both of them, and asked Tracey if she could move along a bit so that she could sit by the window.

The compartment was more than a little cramped. Maia and Bulstrode had both taken the window seats, whilst Tracey sat on Maia's left, and on her left sat Blaise. Parkinson was next to Bulstrode, whist Daphne was pushed into the corner and did not appear to appreciate the encroachment into her personal space. Vincent and Gregory had seated themselves on the floor after depositing Maia's trunk, which left Draco still standing awkwardly at the door.

He jerked his head. "Come on, you two, let's go find Potty and Weasel."

Whilst it was clearly a childish statement, it did have the advantage of clearing out the compartment a little. Daphne sighed and stretched out her long legs.

Silence hung over the compartment. The obvious conversation starter was, "How were your holidays?" However, although they were only twelve, the children all knew that that was not a good question to ask.

Daphne recovered first, and turned to Blaise. "I saw your mother in _McHavelock's_ new advertising campaign for _Harper's Magical Bazaar_. She looked simply stunning."

Blaise made a slight bow in acknowledgement of the compliment, "Thank you, Madam McHavelock was also very pleased."

Tracey practically glowed, "Did your mother meet her? What did she say she was like? Her millinery is by far the best outside of Paris."

Parkinson even managed to look sincere as she added, "My mother has a subscription to _Harper's Magical Bazaar_ and the lines Madam McHavelock produced this season were very elegant."

Blaise shifted in his seat nervously, "Madam McHavelock was very nice. She dined with us after the photo shoot. She gave mother a copy of all of her hats from this season, and last season as well, for the extra advertising."

Bulstrode looked highly uninterested, while Maia smiled politely. Daphne, Tracey and Parkinson would have drooled, had such behaviour not been completely improper.

Blaise shifted in his seat again, "I'm sure mother would send you each a hat, if you like."

Blaise seemed highly gratified and extremely embarrassed as the girls spent the next fifteen minutes thanking him. He blushed deeply when Tracey kissed him on the cheek after words failed to convey her delight.

When they had quietened down, he rolled his eyes. "You do know that they're only hats. My father was so bored when Madam McHavelock dined with us, that he-"

A small squeak from the corner of the compartment bought his voice to an abrupt standstill and five pairs of wide eyes turned to stare at Maia in open-mouthed horror.

"Maia, I'm so, so-"

Maia bit her lip and shook her head, "Don't be." Her insides turned uneasily, but she directed her gaze at Bulstrode, "I hear your family spent the summer in Croatia. I've always wanted to visit. What was it like?"

From there they spent the next few hours diligently discussing their favourite holidays, and dream holiday destinations. The train was halfway to Scotland before Draco arrived – flanked by Gregory and Vincent – looking very put out and announced that neither Harry Potter nor Ronald Weasley were on the train...

...

Naturally, this declaration aroused much interest. As the rain hammered against the windows of the train, the Slytherin second years sat huddled together debating what fate could have befallen their Gryffindor year mates.

Pansy Parkinson maintained that they had both failed their first year exams and hadn't made it into second year. She was strongly supported in this by Millicent Bulstrode, of course. Maia ventured to agree that this might be the case with the Weasel, but there was no way that the Boy-Who-Lived would be thrown out of Hogwarts, regardless of his academic failings. Besides, Hermione Granger would have tutored them both. She would probably have allowed them to cheat from her, had they been in real danger of failing.

Daphne and Tracey, both giggling furiously, came to the conclusion that neither of them could tell the time and had simply missed the train. Granger couldn't help them with that if she hadn't been there.

Draco was so busy fuming that he hadn't managed to taunt them yet, that he didn't put an opinion forward, whilst Blaise suggested that Draco had simply missed them. Draco was rather irked about this, as he had spent a number of hours scouring the train for them.

All too soon, the train pulled into the station. The five friends, their two bodyguards and their two tag-a-longs wrapped their cloaks tightly around them and ran towards the waiting horseless carriages. A clap of thunder overhead made Daphne squeal and Parkinson laughed nastily at her, before Draco and Blaise glared her into silence and submission.

Maia, Draco, Blaise, Daphne and Tracey all piled into one carriage, while Vincent, Gregory, Parkinson and Bulstrode waited for the next one. Maia managed to muster a haughty look to throw at Parkinson and Bulstrode before she got took her seat and the carriage pulled away. She didn't want them to think that she had gone soft, although her interest in belittling them waned quickly as they disappeared from view. She really didn't have the energy to deal with them.

"I don't envy the first years." Said Blaise, rubbing his hand over the misted window as the wind wailed ever louder and the rain fell ever harder.

Tracey nodded, "I hope the teachers dry them off when they get there, poor things."

Daphne shook her long, blonde hair, "I hope they don't sit near me if they don't. I've no intention of catching a cold from them."

As the group took their seats in the Great Hall, they were rather satisfied to have moved up another rung on the Hogwarts social ladder. Second years were more important that first years, after all. In addition, Queenie Greengrass had now made it into her fifth year and had been made a prefect, and given the way she and Bertram Nott were gazing at each other, it was clear that they were more in love than ever.

A quick glance around the hall as they waited for the first years revealed two very interesting facts.

Firstly, Granger was sat in her seat looking extremely alarmed. She clearly had no idea where Potter and Weasley were either. The plot thickened. It was clear, then, that the boys were _meant_ to be here. Granger would have known if they'd been expelled. Maia was slightly worried that Draco had done something reckless, like pushing them off the train, and was putting about line that they were never on the train to start with as a ruse to cover his tracks. Of course, she didn't care what he did to the Weasel, but it would reflect very badly on the Houses of Black and Malfoy if one of their sons had been found to throw the saviour of the wizarding world off the back of the Hogwart's Express.

Secondly, with the graduation of Coeus Blishwick of Slytherin and Marina Villiers of Ravenclaw, a new Head Boy and Head Girl had to be appointed. A quick glance around their own table revealed that neither came from their own House. This did not bode well for the Slytherin students. In fact, the Slytherin table were rather shocked to see that Mycroft Mayfair of Ravenclaw and Sarah Grey of Hufflepuff were the new Head Boy and Girl.

Although Mycroft might have had brains rivalling Merlin, he had the social skills of a flobberworm. The Slytherin second years were not pleased to imagine how he would cope with the demands of being Head Boy if it required him to talk, negotiate and bring about a compromise. Grey, on the other hand, had neither social skills nor brains. She was relentlessly upbeat and sunny and the type of person most Slytherins despised on principle. Their only saving grace was that neither of them were Gryffindors.

Their musings were interrupted when Professor McGonagall marched onto the stage, followed by a trail of drenched and shivering first years.

"How could they not dry them off?" Queenie Greengrass whispered, in a voice far more audible than she intended but which had most of her friends nodding in agreement.

The Sorting Hat burst into song, which hadn't changed greatly from the year before and then McGonagall started the Sorting.

"Anderson, Natalie" became the first Ravenclaw from the year. The Sorting continued uneventfully, and "Burke, Florian" became the first Slytherin of the year.

Slytherin didn't gain a particularly large number of students that year, only five; Florian Burke, Sophia Farley (Gemma's younger sister), Adara Gulray, Daniel Stretton and Caleb Parkin. As soon as Dumbledore finished his welcoming speech, Bertram walked over to the new first years and, with a wave of his wand, had them all warm and dry in an instant. Judging by the looks of admiration of their faces, he had earned their eternal loyalty and devotion, to both himself and Slytherin House.

Maia and Draco put their heads together to discuss the prospects of their new intake. Draco was secretly pleased to see that not only was Maia finally taking a more noticeable interest in blood and politics, she was also talking, which in itself was a blessed relief. He made a mental note to inform his mother of all of this, as she had given him a long lecture prior to their departure, invoking him to look after his bereaved cousin at all times.

Caleb Parkin was already known to them via the various social events the children had had to attend. They had never really spoken to him, as their parents moved in different friendship circles, but they were already acquainted. He was a pureblood who could trace his family back to the fifteenth century. Whilst his bloodline was not quite as prestigious as their own, it was not to be sniffed at, so he was certainly a new contact for them to add to their collection. After all, as the Heirs to the Houses of Black and Malfoy, who intended to work together for years to come, they had to start thinking about these things.

Florian Burke was also known to them. Although they did not move in quite the same circles – his father was the younger son of a younger son who had married a half blood – he was a distant descendant of Elizabeth Burke and his acquaintance was not something to turn one's nose up at if he proved intelligent or useful.

Daphne had by now joined them, and pointed out that Adara Gulray came from a minor pureblood family. Although Adara didn't have a particularly large inheritance ahead of her, she was respectable in every sense, and Daphne had never heard a bad word about the entire Gulray family. Sophia Farley was Gemma's sister, so while the family were even less important than the Gulrays, and had very few pureblood members left, they were pleased with her acquisition. Daniel Stretton was an unknown quantity, but had to be either a half blood or a pureblood, judging by his surname, although none of the second years had ever met him, and the Stretton family were fairly prominent.

None of them saw Professor Snape quietly leave the table.

...

By the next morning, it was all over the school that the two boys (or blithering idiots, as Tracey had termed them) had flown an enchanted Ford Anglia to Hogwarts, been spotted by muggles and then crashed it into the Whomping Willow, from where it had gone berserk and was now running wild in the Forbidden Forest. They had managed to escape unnoticed over Scotland, but the clearer skies in the South of England had had muggles from Essex to Lancashire dialling 999 to report a flying car overhead. And while Herbology was not a favourite subject of any of the Slytherins (it came dangerously close to manual labour, after all) they all cringed when they saw the sorry sight of a rare and magnificent specimen broken and bandaged on the grounds.

Maia sat at breakfast the next morning, reading a letter from her mother, whilst Blaise read out the front-page report on the muggle sightings. A number of Slytherins were confused as to the actual purpose of the car (very few of them took Muggle Studies, and even fewer had close muggle relations) but Maia left Tracey to explain. She wasn't really in the mood for talking.

Suddenly, the quiet of the hall was broken by the not-so-dulcet tones of Mrs. Weasley.

_RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO FURIOUS WITH YOU IN ALL MY LIFE- _

Maia looked on to see the pale, blanched face of the Weasel. Potter with sitting next to him looking mortified and rather guilty. He was probably dreading his own name being mentioned. Most of the school seemed to be laughing, whilst Draco and the rest of the Slytherin second years were clutching at their stomachs. Maia smiled weakly and turned back to her own letter.

_Dear Maia, _

_I can't believe that you're back in school already. Trixie and Tinky are baking cakes for you as we speak..._

Her mother's letter was fairly upbeat, although Maia knew that that couldn't be relied upon. It was very easy to lie in a letter and she wished she could floo call home.

-STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY EXPELLED YOU-

By now, Maia was quietly pleased that she had been brought up in such an elegant house and family. Her mother would never _holler_ in the manner in which Mrs. Weasley carried on. She tried to go back to her letter, but couldn't concentrate given the peals of laughter that filled the hall (even Snape was smiling nastily into his goblet) and the shrieks of the Weasel's irate mother.

- _LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT - I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME!..._

Her insides turned unpleasantly with those last words and she stood up quickly, running from the Great Hall. Her feet clattered on the stone floor as she hurtled along. She ran into the first girls' bathroom she saw, and doubled over the toilet in the nearest cubicle. Her breathing was fast and shallow, her hands were shaking uncontrollably and although she retched repeatedly, she found that she couldn't actually be sick.

She hadn't been this bad since the first few weeks after _it_ had happened. She felt weak and small, terrified and completely alone. Those words, casually speaking of the death of a parent, made her feel as though she was about to be swallowed up into some kind of continual and uncontrollable state of panic.

Now that the screeching of Mrs. Weasley was out of her earshot, she concentrated on her own breathing. It gradually slowed down. She walked over to the sink and ran her hands under the tap. Her reflection was not a particularly pretty sight, she looked grey and had a pale sheen of sweat on her face. She splashed herself with a little cold water and felt slightly better.

She felt someone shaking her shoulder and looked across to find Draco standing next to her, holding her school bag. He must have given his own to Vincent or Gregory. Queenie Greengrass stood behind him, her face very pale as well.

"Sorry, were you talking to me?"

Draco nodded slowly, "Yes, are you quite alright?"

She turned back to her reflection and straightened her hair and skirt. "Yes, I'm fine."

Queenie waved her wand and passed Maia a glass of cool water, "Here, drink this. Would you like to go to Madam Pomfrey?"

"No, no I'm perfectly well. I don't want to make more of a fuss than is necessary."

Queenie looked her up and down, "It's not making a fuss, Maia. She would only make you eat a little chocolate. It might be for the best."

She shook her head resolutely.

Draco linked her arm in his own and shouldered her bag securely, "It's alright Queenie, we've only got History of Magic first. Either Vincent or Gregory are bound to have some chocolate with them and I'll make sure Maia eats it. I'll look after her."

Queenie looked at both of them and nodded, "Very well, but make sure she does." She turned to Maia, "You know that if you ever need anything, I'm here for you and so is Bertram and the other prefects. We're your friends as well."

Maia nodded but found that once again, her throat had gone rather dry and she couldn't talk. Draco steered her out of the bathroom and along the corridor to History of Magic. Binns failed to notice them as they slipped into the classroom and, for once, Draco took diligent notes as it was the only way he could convince Maia to abandon her schoolwork and eat her way through the sizeable pile of chocolate Vincent and Gregory and dutifully provided. They had apologised that they had kept their better stash in their dorm room.

Daphne and Tracey kept throwing her worried looks, while Maia tried to ignore them and focus on eating her way through each mouthful at a time. Chewing felt very difficult when her throat was so dry and she felt so very tired and lethargic. She took a deep breath.

This was not how she was supposed to behave. She was a daughter of the House of Black. She was the Heir of the House of Black. She checked her posture and found that she was slouching. She forced herself to sit upright. Even she was going to cry, or panic, or be sick, she had to do that alone and in secret. She had to be strong. She had to behave with elegance and decorum. Public displays of grief – such as running from the Great Hall – were not allowed. They were not to be tolerated.

She ate the last bite of chocolate as the bell rang and carried her own bag to Charms.

...

The next few days were not easy for Maia Black. Although Aunt Cassiopeia had kept the papers away from the prominent family's private grief, her own early departure at the end of first year meant that her fellow students knew what had happened. She remembered when they had all found out that her father was a Squib, when they had taunted her when she walked past. Now they went silent. She wondered if they felt guilty. She wondered if people like the Weasel were capable of guilt.

Draco had taken to escorting her, arms linked, to every lesson while Vincent, Gregory, or occasionally Blaise would be left to carry her books. The crowds parted as they passed and the two cousins walked through with their heads high. The Slytherin second years had decided to act as though the silence was the result of the respect accorded to them. It was the best way they could deal with it.

Parkinson and Bulstrode followed their classmates around in the corridors and sat with them in the Great Hall, but they still kept to themselves in the Common Room. The tension between the two groups had now reduced, however, to fairly peaceful co-existence.

...

Cassiopeia walked away from her desk, and began to pace the room. Caroline had been doing much better during the past few days than she had expected. She had written cheerfully to Maia and had busied herself around the house, doing her best to make their new home as tasteful as she could.

This, of course, had made life much more difficult for herself.

She didn't have Maia to look after.

She didn't have Caroline to look after.

The house elves did not need her direction.

She paced the room.

On her desk now stood a new photograph, which was yellowed with age and which she had hidden years ago. Only in this new house did it see the light of day. It had been buried away since the 1920s.

It was very wrong of her to bring it out again now...

Pollox was wearing his new Hogwarts robes, trimmed with the Slytherin colours. This had been taken on the Yule of his first year and he had insisted on wearing them. Her parents had relented, proud of their eldest son. Pollox stood in front of their father, Cygnus, who was wearing dress robes with a high collar and a lace ruff. He glared at whoever was taking the picture – Cassiopeia forgot who – and his children in turn. Her mother, Violetta, was sitting in a high-backed armchair. Her hair was arranged in elegant curls around her head and held in place with heavy, jewel-laden combs. Her expression was one of icy indifference, which Cassiopeia had later come to admire and emulate. Her mother was a strong woman.

Sitting quietly on her mother's lap was Dorea, the baby of the family, although she must have been at least three when the picture had been taken. Her hair had been curled into ringlets and tied on her head with a large ribbon. Standing next to her mother was Cassiopeia herself, wearing a frilly and lacy pinafore while her hair matched that of her younger sister, although it already reached her waist. She had been a surprisingly pretty child. Cassiopeia could remember begging her mother to allow her to 'put up' her hair for the photograph. Of course, nothing so ridiculous had been countenanced.

Next to her was the brother so close to her in age and so alike in appearance that many people had assumed they were twins. Cassiopeia would be going to Hogwarts in three years time, and even then, they had thought that Marius would follow the year after. Her brother gazed evenly at the camera with all the assurance of a son of the House of Black, even if he was barely seven years old.

That assurance had been ripped from them the day the Hogwarts letter had failed to arrive.

Up until that day, Cassiopeia, or Cassie as _only_ Marius had called her, had remained adamant that her brother was not the Squib her parents feared.

Cassiopeia picked up the silver frame and watched the people of a bygone age stare back at her with eternal pride and decorum, despite the fact that every single one of them was gone, except for her. The people in the picture had no idea of what had happened after the button had clicked and the image processed. Yes, they might move, but their memories and ideas were frozen in time. _That_ Marius thought that he would go to Slytherin. _That_ Cassiopeia thought that she and her younger brother would be best friends forever.

Her first trip home from school had been the very worst of her life.

She had looked at her brother oddly.

Pollox had openly shunned him.

Dorea, ever the baby, had suggested a delayed owl and had been sent to her room with bread and water.

Her parents were silent in his presence. Her father, with stiff resolve, had made enquiries as to life in the muggle world. He instructed his aides to do so with the utmost level of discretion. Her mother had silently wept in her room at what she believed to be her 'failure'.

The next September, Marius had been sent away to school. A muggle school. He boarded full-time, all year round. He lodged in the summer. He rarely returned home. The house had been purged. His room had been turned into a study, his name had been removed from the family tree, and no one in the wizarding world mentioned his name again.

This had been one of the few family pictures to survive. She did not remember saving it. It must have been Dorea. She looked at the toddler. By the time all of this had happened, Cassiopeia had stopped saying his name as well.

At the time she had convinced herself that this was better, but it was not, it was merely easier for her because it pleased her parents, although she was to later disappoint them anyway. But still.

From then on, her brother, her almost twin, was no more. In his place was _a_ _filthy Squib_. In his place was _a disgrace_. In his place was _an abomination_.

She remembered all the things she had said, all the taunts she had made, whenever he had visited as a child.

She remembered how she had ignored him for almost all of their adult lives.

She remembered not inviting him to funerals and weddings.

She remembered belittling him when she had found out about Maia.

She remembered manipulating him, and lying to him, and never telling him the truth.

She remembered that now he would never know that her motives had been _true_. She had been trying to do her best by them all. By his almost-daughter. Even if she had never said a word. Would he know now that he was beyond the veil? Would he forgive her? Would he understand?

And now she was so far into her lies and manipulations that she could not even confess.

She could not tell Caroline all the steps she had taken. She could not relieve her guilt.

And she could not tell her brother how very sorry she was.

How sorry she was for the lies. She should have told him everything. She should have explained everything. She should have known he was capable of more than being _just a Squib_.

She was sorry she manipulated him.

She was sorry that she abandoned him.

She was sorry that she taunted him.

She was sorry that she had failed him.

She was sorry that she had not stood by him.

She was sorry for the years she had spent hating him.

She was sorry for the years she had spent pretending he had never been born.

She was so very pleased that he had been born.

She sank down on her bed as the tears began to fall.

She had not cried once since he had died. Not once but for a single tear.

He deserved more than a single tear.

She had not been able to understand it.

How could he be gone?

And could _she_ have made a mistake and how could _she_ not be able to fix it?

That was not how _her_ world worked.

She was sorry that she had never told him she loved him.

Not even when they were little.

He had died never knowing that she did, truly did, look on him as her brother.

She was sorry that she had never asked his forgiveness.

She was so very, very sorry.

Her tears turned into wails and the door was pushed open.

She clutched the frame of the photograph tighter.

Her brother had died.

The last of her family had died.

And throughout her life, she had tried so hard, yet she had failed and disappointed them all.

Her father.

Her mother.

Caroline wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close. She held her tightly.

Cygnus.

Caroline hushed her and rubbed her back as her aging body shook.

Dorea.

Marius.

...

**Reviews would be lovely.**

**Also, I just wanted to quickly add something on to my last A/N. Yes, that was exactly my reasoning behind Bellatrix's wand latching onto Maia. I've had integral plot lines built up around both Maia's Sight (as part of her heritage) and Bellatrix's wand since I first had the idea for this story – and I can't wait for them to both kick off! Sadly, this is a long game and they won't come into play for a while, but I can promise lots and lots of drama in the House of Black during second year! : ) **


	38. The Lies of Lucius Malfoy

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Thirty Eight

Cassiopeia carefully poured herself a cup of tea, staring at the empty air above Caroline's head.

"Perhaps it would be better if we talked about it?"

Cassiopeia pulled herself up stiffly, even straighter than before, "No."

"You helped me when I needed help, it's only fair that I help you."

"I do not want help."

"But you do need it." Caroline reached across the table, ready to take Cassiopeia's hand in her own.

Cassiopeia pulled her hand away sharply, "That is an opinion, not a fact."

Caroline tried not to sigh. She really had no idea what she was trying to achieve here, or how she would even go about it. "Please, Cassiopeia, it's not a sign of weakness. You should try to talk."

"I'd really rather not."

...

The second year Slytherins and Gryffindors piled out of their first lesson with Gilderoy Lockhart. Well, Granger, Longbotton, Weasley and Potter had stayed behind to help whilst their classmates with a sense of self-preservation had fled and Lockhart had locked himself away in his office.

Draco looked back over his shoulder, "Did that really just happen?"

Blaise nodded, "Oh yes, that did just happen."

Daphne, smoothing her hair where the Cornish pixies had pulled it, closed her eyes as if she were trying to repress her memories of the last few minutes, "And the quiz, we mustn't forget the quiz."

"Perhaps we should go back and help them?"

The group rounded on Blaise, "Take that back, Zabini, or I'll have to question your sanity and the foundation of our friendship." Spat Tracey, who, like Daphne, was picking the tangles out of her hair.

Blaise looked a little sheepish, "I can't help feel sorry for them."

Draco cocked an eyebrow, "Who are you, and what have you done with Blaise Zabini? No true Slytherin _ever_ helps a Gryffindor."

Maia glanced quickly back to the classroom. She had no desire to help Granger or the Weasel, but she did feel a twinge of pity for Longbottom, especially as she checked that her wand was still secure in its holster. What right had she to laugh at any trouble he had? "When they've had enough time to sort out the worst of it, perhaps we should help them?"

Draco gave her a look that was clearly pitying, "Are you sure?"

She nodded, "I'd hardly joke about such a thing."

They waited in the corridor for a few moments, before she and Blaise turned to go back to the classroom, whilst Draco and Daphne led the march towards the Common Room. Tracey paused for a moment, suddenly overcome with indecision, before turning on her heel to follow Daphne.

Blaise lifted his wand, whilst Maia drew her own, and slowly pushed the door open. However, rather than finding the room filled the chaos, it was filled with the bodies of slowly rotating, immobilised Pixies. The four Gryffindors were simply walking round to reach up and grab them, and put them back into their cage. Sheathing their wands, the two Slytherins joined them.

Maia and Longbottom reached up for the same Pixie. Longbottom reached it first, and nodded, "Thank you for coming back to help." He said, a little nervously and a little stiffly.

"You're welcome."

He nodded again, and turned to collect some more. Maia could hear the Weasel and Granger arguing – apparently Granger thought Lockhart had instigated the mayhem deliberately to allow for a more practical learning experience – whilst she and Longbottom cleared the left hand side of the room in silence. Blaise and Potter emptied the other side, trying very hard not to make eye contact.

Maia cast a sidelong glance at Longbottom, and noticed that he was looking at her oddly.

"Did I ever thank you for taking me to the Hospital Wing in first year, after Potions?" He said, whilst clumsily trying to stuff a Pixie back into the cage. It had been frozen at an odd angle and didn't quite fit through the door.

"I don't believe so."

"Oh." He paused, giving the Pixie one last shove, "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I don't think you were in any state to apologise at the time."

He nodded nervously, "I think we're finished."

Maia nodded, and left with Blaise for her next class – History of Magic with the Hufflepuffs. Potter thanked them as they left, whilst the Weasel refused to acknowledge them, and Granger looked like she wanted to say something, but couldn't quite work out how.

...

That evening - after Draco had summoned a house elf and ordered them all tea and biscuits before they went to bed and all the second years were gathered around their favourite fireplace, complaining about Lockhart - a scandal broke out in the Slytherin Common Room.

For the first time in a decade, a bona fide muggleborn had been Sorted into Slytherin.

It all started when Adara Gulray asked Daniel Stretton which branch of the Stretton family he belonged to. When he didn't understand the question, and didn't realise that Stretton was a common magical name, it soon emerged that he was a muggleborn.

Of course, things like this had happened before. Merlin himself had been a Slytherin and a muggleborn, but it was not exactly _common_ and there were more than a few shocked and scandalised expressions as the news spread like wildfire.

Askella jumped onto Maia's lap and purred as she scratched her behind the ears, just as Caleb Parkin loudly asked poor Daniel Stretton to explain what a vicar was.

Of course, there were magical families who went to church, and who practised a variety of religions, but many more magical families did not and their knowledge of Christianity was mainly limited to 'the time when they wanted to burn and drown us all'.

Daniel Stretton stammered his way through his explanation as Caleb's eyebrows rose higher and higher. Sophia Farley nodded eagerly, genuinely interested, whilst Florian Burke was busy studying the expressions of the rest of the room.

Draco shook his head and signalled for the second years to huddle together. In barely a whisper, he said "I don't think that this is a good thing."

Tracey, quick to see a faux pas emerging, frowned and said, "What do you mean, he's hardly the first muggeborn _ever_ to be in Slytherin and my muggle grandmother goes to a C of E Church all the time, and she'd fine with my being a witch."

Draco shook his head again, "No, not about him being a Slytherin, but him being a Slytherin _this year_."

"Why? What's special about this year?" Said Parkinson, breaking the huddle to look back over at Daniel Stretton, who now seemed much more relaxed as Bertram Nott, Queenie Greengrass and Gemma Farley had joined the group to talk to him about muggles. They were no doubt reassuring him that relatives of those who had actually been burned or drowned would not be seeking immediate revenge upon his person, and that his muggle family would be no barrier to his innate magical ability or his acceptance into the House of Salazar Slytherin. They were probably telling him a few white lies, but most students were fairly liberal these days, and those that weren't knew which side had lost the last war, and on which side their bread was buttered.

Annoyingly, Draco shook his head again. "I can't say. Well... I don't know. Father just said that this wouldn't be a good year for mudbloods at Hogwarts. He wouldn't tell me anything else."

Blaise glanced towards Maia and Tracey, "Why? He's not bringing something about blood status up before the Board of Governors, is he?"

Draco followed Balise's gaze, "If he _is_, he didn't say anything about half bloods. He just said mudbloods would finally learn their place. If it gets rid of Granger, who are we to complain?"

Blaise's frown deepened, "I don't think it's funny. Do you not have any idea what he meant?"

"No, nothing at all."

...

Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy were walking around their flower garden together, with their arms intertwined.

"Is everything gone now?" Asked Narcissa, holding her ermine trimmed cloak closed at the front with a leather-gloved hand. It was still September, but there was a cold autumn wind in the air.

Lucius nodded, "It's all gone. Discreetly as well. None of it will be traced back to us." He looked ahead, replaying the scene in the bookshop. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and covered it with other memories.

Narcissa rose lightly on her tip toes and placed her warm lips on his cold cheek, smooth from where he had shaved that morning, "Thank you."

He nodded curtly, "I would never have you sad, my love."

She nodded as well as they made they turned another corner of the small path.

...

Druella Black's hands danced over the black and white keys as she glanced absently at the music. She had played this piece so many times that she had no need for the notes and the staves. She sighed and wondered how much longer it would be until supper, but she did not have the inclination to see just how long she had to wait.

She had had few letters to answer of late, and no real news. It seemed that Caleb Parkin had sent his grandmother into hysterics with the news that he had befriended a mudblood, but Druella had no interest in the House of Parkin as one of their sons had once snubbed her great-great aunt at a Ministry Ball.

She had heard that the Squib was dead, but of course, she'd rather not have been informed. She'd burnt the letter in case anyone found it and thought that she took an interest in the sordid affairs of that group of filthy blood traitors. She had told Narcissa as much, and had not received a single letter from her since.

...

Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley sat together in the Common Room. Hermione was correcting their Astronomy essays, whilst the two boys tried to keep up with her running commentary.

She paused when she reached Harry's reasonably well-written paragraph on the Taurus constellation. "It was nice of Black and Zabini to help us with those Pixies, I suppose."

Harry nodded, whilst Ron snorted. "I expect they had an ulterior motive."

Hermione shook her head, "I'm not so sure."

"Those lot always have an ulterior motive before they do anything."

"I don't think Black is in any state to have an ulterior motive to do anything, yet alone think of one."

Harry scratched his head, "I know what you mean, she looks... sad."

"I couldn't imagine..." Hermione's voice trailed away. She went very quiet and a knot of guilt twisted in her stomach when she remembered her last conversation with Maia Black.

Ron shrugged, "I know it's horrible, but it's not like it's any of our business. And you two can't seriously pretend that she's all sugar and spice just because she hasn't come up with some evil plan yet. If she's not working on one now, either her or Malfoy will come up with one soon. She'll probably find that more comforting than anything else."

Hermione nodded absently and went back to the essays.

"Ron, how could you have got so much of this wrong? Andromeda is a galaxy, not a planet!"

...

The news that Daniel Stretton was a muggleborn was interesting news to the rest of the school and did something to placate the whispers that had previously followed Maia, although she pitied him more than she cared to admit. He was a quiet boy, his main hobby before had been to sing in the Church choir and play cricket on the village green. He was a softly spoken Yorkshire lad, with the hint of an accent, who had never been in, or sought, the limelight.

The rest of the school waited for the in-House bullying to start, but never seemed to realise that they were the only ones who were making a fuss. While a few Slytherins were from Darker families, and gave him unfriendly and unwelcoming looks, they had the good sense to keep this to themselves. They ignored him, and that was the end of the matter.

Caleb Parkin and Florian Burke, on the other hand, had taken to acting as pseudo-body guards and the three were well on their way to becoming as thick as thieves. Elizabeth Burke was a famous muggle-hater, but Florian's family had long since (or most of them had long since) abandoned such nonsense and, as Parkin agreed, Slytherins always stuck together. Gradually, Daniel found his smile again and laughed as his two new friends pushed the crowds apart for him, crying that they had to make way for the next Merlin.

It was enough news for Maia to write home about, and Cassiopeia replied that the Stretton family had disowned a Squib in the mid eighteenth century and that she suspected that Daniel Stretton was a descendant.

Either way, as a commotion filled the Common Room towards the end of the first week of school, when Daniel, Florian and Caleb played a very rough and tumble game of exploding snap, Maia found that she was cornered by her friends and her book on the history of the thirty first Goblin war was snatched from her hands by a smirking Tracey.

"Good evening, cousin Maia."

Maia rolled her eyes, "What do you want, Draco? I was reading."

Blaise grinned, "We're staging what muggles call 'an intervention'." He paused proudly, "Tracey told us about them. It was her idea." Draco coughed. "Well, this part was her idea. Draco came up with idea of finding a way to cheer you up."

Maia folded her arms. "Oh?" She said disdainfully, in a manner worthy of any of her aunts.

Vincent and Gregory shuffled backwards out of habit. When Aunt Cassiopeia used that voice, it usually foretold an imminent visit to the Boggart cupboard.

Draco, however, was unfazed. "Yes. I'm worried about you. I know you're upset and frankly, it would be ridiculous not to expect otherwise. However, I don't like watching you."

Blaise nodded now, acting far more seriously than he had before. "Yes, we aren't messing around. You don't have the same well, the same _life _in you that you did last year. You don't have as much disdain for the rest of the world as you did before, you don't have cunning plans like you did before."

Daphne nodded, "I've known you since we were six years old, and I've never seen you so... lifeless. You're my friend, one of my dearest friends, and I just want to see you smile, just a little bit."

They turned to Draco, "So, we thought about what you love the most and what used to make you laugh and smile, and we came up with Quidditch-"

"-I don't want to play anymore-"

"That's my point!" cried Daphne, "You used to love it so much and-"

"The past tense of the verb is critical in that sentence-" snapped Maia.

Draco glared at her and tossed his silvery hair, "No, your attitude towards it is. You don't want to fly because you used to go with Uncle Marius and because Uncle Marius gave you a new broom last Easter and you didn't fly for him. That's why you won't fly. I know I'm not being tactful, and I apologise, but you shouldn't give up something you love. If you fly, you can fly the broom he gave you and make him proud. If you fly, you can think of all the matches you went to with him, and all the fun you had. I miss him too, but you can't give up the things you love and you have to find a way to be happy again. Just because something sad and horrible has happened, doesn't mean that you'll never be happy again."

Maia stood quickly and glared at them all, furious and stubborn. She snatched her book back from Tracey, "I don't have to listen to this."

She turned and ran upstairs to her dormitory.

...

**As ever, reviews and constructive criticism would be lovely. And thank you to everyone who has left a review or a comment so far.**

**Annie Mouse – you'll get an answer to your question in a few chapters (no more than ten) time. And yes, I've always thought that Cassiopeia had a heart, very deep down, but I don't think she's admitted it to herself in a very long time. : ) **


	39. Learning To Live

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Thirty Nine

The next morning was Friday. Maia rose earlier than normal and left the dorm room before Tracey and Daphne had gotten out of bed. In fact, they were only woken up when the door slammed shut (loudly and deliberately) as Maia left the room.

Tracey sat up and rubbed her eyes, "I take that to mean that she's still cross about last night."

Daphne looked around her, her eyes bleary, "She must know that we were only trying to help."

She shrugged, "I suppose. Maybe we should have gone about it better?"

"Well... Even if she's cross, at least she's feeling something. That has to be better than before. And she always has been stubborn. Maybe she's going back to, well... maybe she's going back to normal, or something like it."

...

Maia sat apart from the rest of the second years that morning, tossing them disdainful glances and sticking her nose in the air when they looked her way. She also glared at the first years when they tried to include her in their conversation instead. It didn't help their case that they were trying to explain Quidditch to Daniel Stretton.

For the first time since she had got back to school, Maia walked to class on her own. When she arrived – Charms with the Hufflepuffs – she walked over to Ernie and asked to sit with him. Ernie and Finch-Fletchley were sitting together, although Finch-Fletchley moved along a space so that Maia could sit next to her cousin. While this was a polite move in itself, it meant that she was sitting between them.

Maia ignored the worried looks she was getting from the Slytherin side of the class – and the wary, sympathetic and conflicted ones from the Hufflepuffs surrounding her – and arched her neck as she made tidy, detailed notes on Flitwick's lecture on Tickling Charms.

She was just finishing off her last point when Finch-Fletchley turned to her and said, "So, do you want to go first, or shall I?"

She shook her head slightly and frowned, "I beg your pardon?"

Finch-Fletchley pointed to Ernie who was currently re-reading his notes with a girl who wore her hair in blonde pigtails. "Ernie's working with Hannah, so do you want to try and cast the spell on me first, or shall I try and cast it on you?"

"We have to work together?"

He looked a little crestfallen, "Yes... I'm sorry."

She shook herself and realised that she was being unnecessarily rude. "I apologise, I didn't mean to offend you. I was just hoping to work alone today."

He nodded and smiled weakly, "Of course... I understand. Well, no, I don't, but..." He paused and looked at the notes, changing the subject entirely, "Goodness! This does look complicated. Why don't you go first and show me how it's done. And if anyone asks, we can say that I was a gentleman and let the lady go first."

She ignored him before turning back to her own notes. It did look a little complicated, and it was very good of him to admit his failings, and very gallant of him to be so chivalrous, if only in jest. Of course, he had, as she had said many times before, the intellect of a flobberworm, but he was fairly pleasing company in the end. It was also very tactful of him to gloss over her rudeness and blatant bad mood.

She nodded to herself, "Well, my notes seem to be in order. Stand back and I'll try." She waved her wand, practising the movement, and then said, "Richtusempra."

Immediately, Finch-Fletchley doubled over with laughter and Flitwick bustled over, clapping his hands. "Well done, Miss Black, very well done indeed. Did everyone see? She got it first time, it's all about the wand movement. Five points to Slytherin." He waved his wand and Finch-Fletchley straightened up as the spell was removed.

He beamed at her, "Well done, I knew you'd get it first."

She raised an eyebrow, "Really?"

He nodded and ran his hand through his hair, where she caught a glint of gold. As he lowered his hand, she reached forward without thinking and snatched it, pulling the ring on his little finger up to the light. "Where did you get one of these? I don't recognise the crest?"

Justin laughed, "My grandfather gave it to me for my birthday over the holidays. It's my family crest. Our family came over with the Normans, you know."

"So it's a muggle crest?"

He nodded.

"How interesting." She said, and found herself looking at him with a new level of... tolerance, if she couldn't quite manage respect. Perhaps Ernie hadn't been so foolish in befriending him. He must be influential in the muggle world, or at least his family must be, and that was something that might be useful one day. She showed him her own ring. "Are you the Heir?" she asked.

He shook his head, "No, my father is at the moment, and then my older brother. But in the muggle world, the whole family has the right to were a signet ring. Is it different in the magical one?" Justin fought to keep the grin off his face. He had wanted to have a civil conversation with Maia Black since he'd seen her talking to Hermione Granger that day on the train. However, since then he'd been struggling to get a civil _word_ out of her, yet alone a whole conversation. He'd thought that letting her show off and teach him a simple spell would be a good start, but really, all she wanted to do was talk family politics and family history. Great scott, he should introduce her to his grandfather!

Maia nodded, pleased that he was taking an interest in the magical world he'd joined. "Yes, although all members of a House may use the seal, say, for official correspondence, only the Head of House, the Lady of the House and the Heir may actually wear a signet ring." She paused, "So, are you going to try and cast the spell on me?"

Justin waved his wand, and to her surprise, she doubled over with laughter and her body shook. Just as suddenly, the laughter stopped and Flitwick awarded Justin three points, as he was the second Hufflepuff to master the spell. Susan Bones had managed it first.

Ernie turned round to both of them, "How are you doing it? I don't understand this at all."

Justin laughed and demonstrated the wand movement, whilst Maia explained the correct pronunciation.

Ernie tried again, but to no avail. "Oh, it's just no use. And anyway, I wanted to ask, why are you sitting with us today? Not that I mind, of course not!"

Maia straightened herself and looked over to her Slytherin year mates. The last of her smile from talking to Justin faded from her face, "Oh no reason. I just had a slight disagreement-"

"-If Pansy Parkinson is giving you grief, I swear to Merlin I'll-"

"-No, no... Nothing like that. It's silly really, I suppose. I'm cross because they want me to play on the Quidditch team this year."

"Why would that make you cross?" Said Finch-Fletchley.

"Yes, and you're so good." Said Ernie.

"I'll admit that I'm good, but I'm not amazing and there must be older, more experienced players. But either way, I just don't want to play."

Ernie shook his head, "I expect that they were completely tactless about it, weren't they?" Maia looked up at him and frowned, while he continued, "They were trying to cheer you up over the passing of your father, weren't they?"

Maia nodded, and Finch-Fletchley looked as though he wished the ground could swallow him up. Ernie, however, ploughed on, "Well, if they'd suggested it, without mentioning your father, would you have been so cross?"

Maia shook her head guiltily, "I wouldn't have jumped at the chance, but I don't think I would have been quite so angry about it."

Ernie nodded sagely, "Perhaps you should just try it. You only have to try it once to see how you feel."

...

The second lesson of the day was DADA with the Gryffindors. Walking into the room, she knew that there was no seat next to a lion where she would be welcomed. However, she had no intention of sitting with her friends and stomped to the back on the class to sit on her own. She saw Hermione frown at her when she walked in, and the other Slytherins look a little upset, but she stared straight ahead. She knew that this behaviour was not ladylike, but for the first time in a long time, she did not care.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Lockhart came in the room.

After the disaster with the Pixies, Maia dreaded to think what Lockhart would come up with next. In the end, she was relieved that he would now just be re-enacting his finer moments. While this was very boring for everyone who had read the books – such as herself – at least she wasn't in danger of being attacked by garden creatures. And she got to watch Potter squirm as he was called up to the front. She sympathised with him to a point, and wished it could be the Weasel, but still, at least it wasn't her.

She looked over and saw that the Slytherins were clustered together and that Daphne was writing quickly on a piece of parchment. They passed it to Blaise, who leant across the room and passed it to Patil (while Lockhart had his back turned to rearrange Harry's impersonation of Devil's Snare) who turned around and passed it to Finnegan, who read the front, shrugged, and turned to hand it to her. He winked as he did this and she glared at him disdainfully, tossing her hair as she imperiously took the parchment from him.

It was folded simply and on the front were the words _For the attention of Maia Violetta Black._

The opened it up and read through it quickly,

_Dear Maia Violetta Black,_

_We are writing to express our regret that our actions, inadvertently, caused you some distress. We assure you that it was most unintentional. Please do us the honour of granting us your pardon. We do hope that you can see the sincerity of our actions, and do consider our proposal._

_Your loyal friends,_

_Tracey Louise Davis, Daphne Eirene Greengrass, Milicent Madeline Bulstrode, Pansy Begonia Parkinson, Blaise Ankou Zabini, Gregory Grannus Goyle, Vincent Augustus Crabbe and Draco Lucius Malfoy._

She looked at them, saw them watching her closely, and nodded abruptly. Ernie had already pointed out that she had been overly short with them. And when she thought about it, she had always wanted to join the Quidditch team before her third year. It would make her mother happy, give her something to write home about, and her mother could look forward to coming to see her play and then she could check up on her, and wouldn't have to decode her letters. And she could see her more often. She wouldn't have to wait until Yule.

She turned the page over and saw that another message had been written in the corner,

_Maia,_

_You're my cousin and I love you, but stop being cross because you turn into Aunt Cassiopeia. It's scary. I think you're even starting to look like her, it's when you do that think with your eyebrow._

_Just play on the stupid team. I want to win but father's making me play Seeker just to try and show Potter up, when we both know I'm useless at that and should be Keeper. Vincent and Gregory have to play Beaters, and although that have some uses, agility and co-ordination aren't among them. Please help me out – I'll owe you forever. And I'm not being completely selfish, I do think that it'll do you some good as well._

_Please burn this, I don't want anyone to know that I wrote it. It's completely undignified. _

_Draco. _

Maia looked over and saw that only Draco was watching her now. She nodded slowly and watched the relief on his face. She twisted her body and set fire to the letter, watching it burn to ciders. She scattered the ashes on the floor under her desk and was thankful that Lockhart was too incompetent and too engrossed in his own theatrics to notice pupils starting fires in the middle of his lesson.

...

By dinner that evening, normality had returned to the Slytherin second years. Draco had escorted Maia from DADA to lunch and taken the opportunity to thank her. She knew, of course, that she owed him far more than she could ever repay. He had held her together at her father's funeral when she thought that she might break in half. And it was just like Uncle Lucius to make Draco do something he didn't want to, and order him to do it as Head of House. No matter that Slytherin would more likely beat Potter if Draco Kept, rather that Sought.

Anyway, they all sat together when Marcus Flint marched over that evening. The second years scooted along the bench to make room for him.

"Good evening, Marcus." Said Draco, inclining his head.

"Good evening, Draco." He looked him up and down, "I came to inform you that we have an early morning practise session tomorrow. Professor Snape has given us written permission to over-rule the Gryffindor team's pitch booking, as we need to train our new Seeker." He nodded his head towards Draco with a smile, "And it means we can show off our new brooms before the match."

They both smirked. "That sounds like an excellent plan." Said Draco.

"Thank you. And I thank your father, he has been most generous."

"He wants to see Slytherin win as much as we do. Have you drawn up the rest of the team?"

It was common knowledge that the Slytherin team did not hold try-outs. The captain drew up possibilities over the summer and approached potential players in turn, assessing how well they would all work together, and negotiating any deals that might have to be struck.

Marcus Flint nodded, "I'm playing Keeper this year now that Miles Bletchley's left, as I couldn't find anyone else. Bertram Nott would have been better, but he feels it would interfere with his prefect duties and we couldn't arrange a compromise. Terence Higgs has left, but you're replacing him as Seeker. Peregrine Derrick and Lucian Bole were playing Beaters, but they've been replaced by Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, as per our arrangement. Then there's Theodore Nott – he's a fourth year, do you know him?"*****

Draco nodded, the Notts and the Malfoys were well acquainted, of course.

"Good, it's always better when none of the team members have blood feuds." Flint smirked at his own joke, and the rest of the second years couldn't help but join it. "He's going to be a Chaser. So is Adrian Pucey, although he does have an over-developed sense of fair play, but his dad is manager for the Montrose Magpies and I don't want to offend him." Flint grimaced, "And you've told me that your cousin is a fair Chaser as well."

He looked at the second years in turn, although he blatantly knew who Maia Black was already.

He dipped his head in her direction, and she responded in kind. "Chaser is my strongest position, but I've played Seeker a few times."

Flint nodded, taking in this information. "That's something to bear in mind, but Mr. Malfoy was very keen that Draco play Seeker when he donated the brooms."

Maia looked to Draco, _I tried_. He nodded once, _I know, thank you._

"And you want to play for the team?"

Maia nodded, "Of course."

"We practise on Mondays and Wednesdays and every other Saturday."

"I know."

He nodded again, "Well then, I want you both ready in the Great Hall at 7am sharp tomorrow morning. Wood's getting his team up at 5, but I know he'll lecture them for at least two hours before they get on to the pitch, and I really want to annoy him. Your team robes should be up on your beds, I've already ordered the house elves to arrange them for you."

...

The next morning, Maia got up and dressed in her new green Quidditch robes. She tied her hair back in a French braid to keep it out of her face while she was flying, and wound the long plait into a bun at the back of her head, tying it with a hair net. If she was going to be the only girl on the team, she did not want them to look at her and see a girl. She wanted them to look at her and see a dedicated, serious Quidditch player.

And Aunt Cassiopeia was sure to be cross with her. Violent, sporting activities were for young wizards, not young witches. So, if Aunt Cassiopeia _was _going to be cross (and her mother was sure to agree with her, or at least hate the idea because she thought human beings should keep their feet on the ground) she wanted to be a good player, not a mediocre or passable one.

She shouldered her broomstick, the same one her father had given her, and scratched Askella behind her ears as she walked out of the dorm room.

She would do this and make her father proud.

Draco was waiting for her in the Common Room and they climbed up the stairs to the Great Hall for breakfast together. His skin looked slightly paler than usual, and it was cleat that he was not happy about playing Seeker. He refused to eat breakfast, although Maia helped herself to a few pieces of fruit. She didn't want to fly on a full, heavy stomach. That had the potential to go horribly wrong.

The rest of the team soon appeared, in drips and drabs, before Flint came down at 6.55am and ordered them all to the pitch. Draco walked next to her and was reciting Quidditch and Seeker drills under his breath. They were walking at the back of the team, when two boys hung back to walk with them.

The both bowed as Maia approached, and she curtseyed in return, whilst Draco jerked his head in what could have been a nervous twitch.

"Good morning." Said the taller boy, with sandy brown hair and an Edinburgh lilt.

"Good morning." She answered.

"I'm Adrian Pucey and this," he gestured to the slightly smaller boy, with dark brown hair and eyes, "is Theodore Nott. I take it you're the new Chaser?" He was the spitting image of his brother, Bertram, expect that his nose looked smaller and his shoulders thinner.

"Yes, I'm Maia Black."

He nodded, "I've heard of you. Didn't you pull that dragon stunt on Potter and his groupies last year?"

"Yes, although it was a group effort."

"Well, I hope you fly as well as you prank."

She smiled, "I certainly hope so as well."

Theodore nodded, "Well, you're the right build for it and it'll work to our advantage having a witch, I think. The opposing team won't want to attack you, too frighten they'll hurt a little girl."

Adrian laughed, "Too true, especially the Gryffindors with all their chivalry nonsense. Oh, and anyone who has ever met your Aunt Cassiopeia won't dare to touch you for fear of starting a blood feud. I met her just before I started Hogwarts. She is more than a little terrifying. I bet her bark's worse than her bite though, surely?"

Maia shook her head, "Oh no, the bite is _far_ worse."

Adrian shuddered and Theodore laughed. "By the way," he said, "ignore Adrian. The names' Teddy."

Maia nodded, making a mental note. "Are you both fourth years then?"

The boys nodded and the trio fell into step together. Draco dragged his feet behind them.

Adrian nodded towards her broom, "You didn't get a Two Thousand and One, then?"

A lump caught in her throat but she swallowed it down. She had to be a serious Quidditch player, "No. This was a gift from my father last Easter, and I really don't think that there's a great deal of difference between the two models."

Teddy shrugged, "I suppose not, but I was flying a Comet 160 last year. This is a real improvement."

Adrian ran his hand expertly along the handle of the broom stick, "Maia's right though, there's little difference between the Nimbus' last two models. An upgrade is always good, I suppose though. Father's still on the fence about ordering a whole new batch for the team, especially as there's a rumour on the circuit of a new company that's about to open up."

"Your father manages the Montrose Magpies?"

"Yes." He said, "He used to captain them as well. He plays Beater, though. I didn't want to play the same position."

Maia nodded, wishing inwardly that the subject of father's had not come up. But then she had to get used to these things...

"Well, congratulations on winning the League last year."

"Most wins of any team." He said, puffing out his chest and laughing.

Teddy ran his hand through his hair, "Enough of the Magpies, I'm sure Marcus will flatter you about it enough later – you know he wants a try-out – I want to hear about this new broom."

"Oh? No one's seen it yet, but I've heard it's going to be called the Fire-"

By now, they had reached the pitch only for Oliver Wood to come storming over towards them, cutting Adrian off mid-sentence.

"What do you think you're doing here, Flint? Clear off, I booked this pitch especially!" He thundered, his team closing ranks and marching along behind him.

The Slytherin team bunched together and Maia felt herself pulled in between Adrian and Teddy. Teddy leant over and whispered, "Stick between us, you're only a second year and if this comes to spells you don't want to be on the front line."

She nodded, but stood up on her tip toes to get a better look over Vincent's shoulder to see what was going on.

By now, Granger, the Weasel and a random Gryffindor first year had run over to see the show down. Wood and Marcus were arguing, though Wood seemed distracted once he saw Professor Snape's note.

"New Seeker? You've got a new Seeker? Who?"

Draco stepped out of the huddle. "That would be me." His voice drawled and he ran his hand through his hair in order to show off his signet ring. As Maia knew, it was a clear sign he was trying to either be intimidating or hide his nerves.

"Yes," said Flint, smirking, as he took a step closer to Wood, "and Mr. Malfoy was most generous over the summer. He was kind enough to donate us all new brooms."

Collectively, the frontline of the team held out their brooms so that the Gryffindors could admire the gleaming handles and embossed lettering. From what Maia could tell, the lions did seem to be looking far more nervous than they had before. Potter though, rather than looking intimidated, just seemed to be put out that his arch nemesis was his now his opposite number.

"Yes, father is most eager to see Slytherin team to win the House Cup." Smirked Draco, now in his element when he saw the effect the brooms were having. "I believe this model outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount." He said, eyeing the broom Potter was holding, "And as for those old Cleansweeps," he said, glancing at the Weasley twins dismissively, "it wipes the floor with them."

Granger stuck out her chin, "Well at least none of the Gryffindors had to _buy_ their way on to the team, Malfoy. _They_ all go in on pure talent."

Draco turned to her furiously. Clearly, a nerve had been struck. Inwardly, Maia fumed at the impudence of Granger. This was a Quidditch argument, and as far as Maia knew, the swot had never flown outside of Madam Hooch's class. She was about to open her mouth to say something – she and Draco had to stick up for each other – when everyone suddenly held their breath. Maia felt her own stomach tighten as Draco said coldly, "I don't recall anyone asking your opinion, you filthy little mudblood."

...

**Cliff hanger! Sorry, I couldn't resist! :)**

**Also, please indulge me, I really wanted to write about the Slytherin Quidditch team and write a few matches from a player's perspective. However, I'm going to put it up do a vote... Do you want Maia to stay on the Quidditch team after Second Year? Let me know! :) **


	40. Every Lie Will One Day Be Discovered

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Forty

"_Mudblood."_

The word hung in the air for less than a second, as they all stood still and silent, processing what had just happened.

Then all hell broke loose.

Maia watched as Granger's face quickly turned from confident and determined to pale and horror-struck. Flint dove in front of Malfoy and knocked him out of the way as Wood barrelled forwards, whilst the three Gryffindor Chasers held back the outraged Weasley twins. However, they were all yelling at Draco themselves.

It was all happening very quickly, but Maia's stomach turned unpleasantly. It felt as though someone had just thrown a bucket of cold water over her.

Granger was annoying and despicable and had presumably been trying to hit a nerve. If Draco had called her anything else, she would have cheered him on. After all, she_ loathed_ Granger herself.

But mudblood?

It was such a horrid word.

And he must know how much it hurt _her_ to hear it.

She hadn't exactly forgotten what had happened with Parkinson.

And she remembered all the times her mother and father had told her what a horrible word it was, and how you should never insult someone purely for their blood. She couldn't disappoint her father. She just couldn't.

"Draco!" She said sharply, not even realising that she'd opened her own mouth until Draco and the rest of the group had turned to her. "Such foul language is beneath you."

Granger was suddenly looking at her as if she'd grown a second head, or was a particularly complicated theory she was trying to solve. In fact, almost everyone on the pitch was looking at her. And most of them looked. The Weasel, however, didn't seem to notice that she'd said anything, as he charged forward, sticking his wand past Flint, and yelled, "Eat slugs, Malfoy!"

Maia felt Teddy – or perhaps Adrian? – pull her back from the oncoming spell, but there was a flash of light and suddenly the Weasel was on all fours, slugs pouring from his mouth. She would have laughed if she hadn't wanted to be sick. It was then that she noticed his wand was held together with Spellotape. Of course the Weasels wouldn't have real wands.

Potter and Granger helped the Weasel to his feet, pulling him off the pitch. Maia saw Granger turn back and look directly at her. She inclined her head, but only in civil acknowledgement and nothing more. The Gryffindors appeared to have given up, and had left the pitch as well.

She turned back round to find Draco standing in front of her, "How could you take her side and not mine?"

"I didn't take her side. I don't like her, I just couldn't believe you'd use that word."

"There's nothing wrong with calling a broomstick and broomstick."

"But there's something very wrong with calling a witch a mudblood, don't you agree?"

Draco sighed, and looked as he was about to say something more, when Flint called them all over and gave them a team pep talk. It didn't last long. Basically, they would win, _or else_.

Then they all kicked off into the air. As she felt the breeze whip past her as she zoomed around the pitch, going faster and changing direction as Flint ordered them to do so, Maia felt much freer and much more relaxed since _it_ had happened. Perhaps Draco had been right. Perhaps she had needed this.

She actually felt happy.

It was just her, her broomstick, and Quidditch.

There was no grief.

No sorrow.

No drama.

No pain.

No worry.

Just her and the order to change direction and speed up. Slow down. Rise a foot. Sink two feet. Go faster.

It was wonderful.

Flint called them all back to the ground and set them off practising individual drills. He wanted them all to perfect the Sloth Grip Roll and Transylvanian Tackle. With the former, Maia didn't have any problems, as she'd been doing it since she was eight, but she'd never quite managed to throw a punch without hitting the other person. Luckily, Adrian was very good at fixing broken bones and none of them had to go to Madam Pompfrey, even though she wasn't the only one who broke a couple of noses.

Flint then saw the advantage of having a girl on the team.

None of them really wanted to hit a girl who was also a fellow Slytherin, so he made her sit on her broom as each of them flew at her in turn and aimed a punch and tried to miss. Once he'd done this, the Transylvanian Tackle was soon mastered, at least when they practised on Maia. Flint told them they'd work on the move again in their next session, and they were all to try and visualise her face when they tried to pull the move off from now on.

Maia was pleased that she'd been of use, but hadn't particularly enjoyed being offered up as a living punch bag by Flint.

He then set them to practising role-specific moves. Maia, Adrian and Teddy zigzagged around the pitch at top speed until they had perfected the Woollongong Shimmy.

It was lunch before Flint let them go, and Maia trekked back to the castle feeling exhausted, but much happier than she had in ages. She put it down to the adrenaline. Even Draco had stopped being cross with her – they never had managed to stay cross with each other for long – and was dramatically re-enacting the Weasel's slug fiasco. She had to admit, it was quite funny. She even laughed when he showed it off – with much dramatic flair and gusto – to the rest of their group.

...

From then on, Maia found that she had very little free time. They had much more homework this year than the year before, and she didn't want to fall behind. She spent most evenings studying in the library, and any evening that wasn't was devoted to Quidditch. She was really enjoying playing for the team. She was improving with each practise and she, Adrian and Teddy got on so well they was worked easily as a team. The Gryffindor Chasers couldn't count on beating them just because they had flown together for longer. And although she had missed the Quaffle a few times in practise, she aimed well and usually pulled off the goal in the end. Maia also made sure that she spent at least half an hour relaxing with her friends in the Common Room each evening, so they weren't in any danger of drifting apart. Parkinson and Bulstrode were doing a very good job at being as unobtrusive as possible.

She continued to sit with Ernie in Charms, knowing that she owed him her open loyalty as her cousin, even if his Hufflepuff friends annoyed her. Finch-Fletchley usually worked with Hannah Abbott now anyway, and Maia worked with Ernie, so she had very little interaction with the other Hufflepuffs and so her Slytherin friends were able to overlook her weekly treachery. Blood was important, after all.

It was in this way that Maia threw herself back into school life, just has her mother was throwing herself into the WI, if her letters were anything to go by, and her aunt was throwing herself into magical research, judging by her numerous articles which were rapidly appearing in _Transfiguaration Today_, _The Practical Potioneer_ and_ Developments in Magical Genealogy_.

At times she felt very guilty, and at times she felt very sad, but Maia was starting to live again, if only a little.

...

It was nearing the end of the third week of September, and Maia was sitting in the library working on her commentary for Lockhart. He wanted them to first summarise, and then pick out their favourite moments from, his book _Wanderings with Werewolves_.

Recalling the last class, Maia had to say she thought Potter did an awful impression of a werewolf. She would have laughed at him, and she not been seething at being cast has a 'gormless peasant'.

How could she, the Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black possibly be cast in such a role?

Or perhaps more importantly, how could the old fool delude himself into employing such an incompetent teacher?

She sighed at turned back to her essay when she heard a small cough. Maia looked up to see Granger standing in front of her, holding a small stack of books and her own copy of _Wandering with Werewolves_. Maia looked around to see where Potter and Weasel were, only to find that they were nowhere in sight and that there were plenty of other empty tables in the library. It was only the third week of term, after all.

She raised an eyebrow, "Can I help you?"

Granger pursed her lips, looking as though she couldn't decide if she wanted to stick her chin out and flounce off, or blush and run away. "I wondered if I could join with you."

Maia frowned, "Why?"

She _did not_ like Granger. Granger had betrayed her, insulted her and insulted her family. Why on earth would they sit together?

Granger's lips went even tighter, "I thought perhaps we could study together? Are you working on Lockhart's commentary as well?"

"Yes." She said shortly.

Granger looked immensely relieved and quickly sat in the chair opposite her. It was then that Maia realised that Granger thought that she'd answered the first question, not the second.

She groaned inwardly, but couldn't be bothered to argue with the girl. Arguments still felt like far too much effort these days. Maia knew Aunt Cassiopeia would be annoyed if she found out that she felt like this, but Maia was sure that it was just the grief talking. It wasn't a permanent change and she was sure that things would go back to normal soon enough.

And then Granger wouldn't know what hit her.

Granger set to work immediately on her essay, and Maia went back to her own. Almost an hour later, she threw down her quill in frustration. It was futile. Lockhart hadn't written a single word worthy of her praise, and if she had to read one more over-the-top adjective, she thought she might weep.

"What's the matter?"

Maia looked up; she'd forgotten that Granger was even there. "Whatever it is, it's no business of yours." She snapped.

Granger nodded, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."

So Granger actually knew how to apologise? Well, this pleased Maia, but she thought it was a shame that Granger seemed to lose the ability when she had to apologise for something important. Or accept an apology, for that matter.

"It's of no importance."

Granger nodded again. "I understand." She paused, "How are you finding the essay?"

"Awful. I've run out of things to say."

"Seventeen inches was rather excessive, I suppose." Granger looked over her own notes, "I've been doing background reading, just to refer to and fill out some more space, would you perhaps like to borrow some of the books?" She began sorting through the books in front of her, and placed a pile in front of Maia, "I've finished with these."

Maia inclined her head, "Thank you, that would be... most acceptable."

She saw no reason to look a gift Hippogriff in the mouth.

...

Later that evening, Hermione Granger left Harry Potter and Ron Weasley in the Common Room. Both of them were talking about Quidditch and had been doing so for so long that she simply couldn't bear it any longer. She made her way up the stairs to her dorm room, thinking back over her day.

It had taken her a few weeks, but she had finally plucked up the courage to talk to Maia Black. Granted, they hadn't actually spoken a great deal, but they had managed to maintain a civil silence, and that was a great improvement. Hermione didn't like to admit it to herself too often, but she knew that she was stubborn. She liked it even less to admit that she was wrong. And now, she thought she might have to do both.

Of course, she knew that Maia Black had done plenty of bad things, and was far from perfect, and might very well be an unpleasant person.

However, even as Hermione thought this, something that felt oddly akin to a knife twisted in her gut...

_She shrugged, "I don't care, he's better than your lot. You and Malfoy and your little gang are all a bunch of stuck-up, arrogant, hate-filled, jumped-up-"_

_Maia cut her off, "An insult can get too long, you know, Granger."_

_Hermione grabbed her books, "You can wave that stupid little ring on that stupid little finger of yours and think that you're so clever and perfect, but it won't do you any good in the real world. It might make you popular at school, but no one will give you a job just because your surname's Black." _

_She turned to walk away, but not until Maia called after her, "I'll never need a job."_

_She spun round on her heel, "Yeah, well, you can't have __**daddy**__ pay for everything forever, can you? You'll have to look after yourself one day!"_

Only now Maia's father was dead. He had died barely a few weeks after that argument. And nothing, nothing would ever excuse such a callous act on her part. She hadn't said it knowing or hoping that Maia's father would die, but that did nothing to make her feel any better. Not when she imagined how she would feel if anything were to happen to her own father.

Maia could mock her in potions all she wanted.

She could argue with her and steal her books in the library.

She could get them caught sneaking dragons out of the castle.

But she had never _actually_ insulted her for her family or her blood. No, despite what she had accused Maia of, Hermione knew that she was the only one who had bought that up. She knew, logically of course, that Maia was as guilty in their on-going feud as she was. Maia had started a number of the arguments – most of them, in fact – and had said some truly nasty things. Hermione wondered what it would be like, though, if she'd accepted Maia's apologies. If she'd said something after Parkinson's bullying was revealed. None of those arguments, or fights, would ever have happened if she had, she was sure. The feud would never have started. They would probably still be friends.

And when she thought of that, she thought of the first person to have a kind word for her in Hogwarts, the friendly girl who'd bumped into her on the train.

And it wasn't as if she could go along with Ron and pretend that Maia Black was a horrible human being. She'd seen her be friendly and kind, and she'd seen her be mean. Just like she'd seen Ron be mean, as much as he was friendly and kind as well. And Maia had spoken against Malfoy, when he had called her a mudblood. And of all their class, Slytherin and Gryffindor, Maia had been one of the few to help them with the Cornish Pixies.

She sighed, too much had happened for them to be friends again, she was sure of that. She couldn't imagine Maia being the forgiving type, but she hoped, however, that they could be civil. Hermione didn't want to fight with her anymore. She'd didn't want to say horrible things that made her stomach turn with regret.

...

Maia sat on her bed, buried in her book. She'd left the library long after Hermione, though they'd parted on a surprisingly civil note, in that the annoyingly self-righteous muggleborn had left Maia without the urge to hex her. Anyway, she'd stayed late in the library and had only nodded to the others when she got back to the Common Room before disappearing up to her dorm room to continue her reading.

She had always been told that werewolves weren't just dangerous, they were evil. They lied and manipulated until they got what they wanted. One had even planned to kill her... or worse.

But that wasn't what these books were saying.

Of course, it could not be denied that werewolves were dangerous and blood thirsty on the night of the full moon, but according to the books Hermione had given her, they were completely normal for all the other days of the month. They retained their normal attributes, their normal personalities, their normal moralities.

They were completely human.

One of the books was even an incredibly touching memoir by a werewolf who'd documented their ostracised existence in painstaking detail. Maia hadn't wanted to cry over it – such a response was weak, pathetic, worthy of a Hufflepuff and beneath her dignity – but it had reminded her of the years her father had spent apart from the magical world because he was a Squib.

Most of the books didn't even refer to the werewolves as werewolves, but as lycanthropy sufferers.

Of course, Maia knew that her aunt would say that this was all leftist nonsense. But this wasn't just one book. This wasn't just one leftie. This was a whole body of information which built up a detailed and carefully constructed argument which challenged everything she had ever been told about werewolves.

And so, this left her with two very difficult questions.

Who did she believe? Her aunt or these books?

And if she believed the books, did this mean that her family had done Professor Lupin a very great wrong?

...

**Reviews would be greatly appreciated. It's always nice to know what you like, and what you think could be better. **

**Also, the vote on whether or not Maia should remain on the Quidditch team is still open. Feel free to let me know what you want! **

**Thank you for all the reviews from the last chapter, and thank you to everyone who added the story to alerts/favourites. **


	41. The Fears Of The House Of Black

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Forty One

Maia spent the next few days going back and forth in her decision.

After all, it went without saying that her aunt was right. Of course her aunt was correct. Her aunt had done everything for her, explained all aspects of the magical world to her, given her the confidence to trust her friends and cousins. How could she doubt her now?

Those books were clearly bleeding heart liberal nonsense, no doubt written by allies of Arthur Weasley, who wanted to launch an attack on purebloods and the very basis of their society.

But then she remembered that her aunt was rather old, and did have some very old fashioned ideas at times. Perhaps it was not that her aunt was wrong, but that she was simply not aware of the facts?

Then, of course, was the issue that Professor Lupin had not told anyone of his... condition. Keeping something like that secret was a betrayal of trust, was it not? Even if he wasn't outright evil, he must have some sort unscrupulous, ulterior motive to hide something like that from them all?

But why would he tell anyone, given the prejudice he must have faced? That memoir had been truly harrowing...

But then she was offended that he had not been honest with her father. If he had told her father the truth, all of it, she was sure they would have come to an understanding. How dare anyone imply that her father was _not_ an open-minded and morally upstanding gentleman?

And if they had reacted badly, what were her mother and father and aunt _supposed_ to think when they uncovered Lupin's secret? It didn't exactly cast him and his actions in a favourable light, did it?

She shook her head, not quite sure what she thought. And it wasn't as if she had anyone she could talk to about it. If she told any of her friends that she was considering contacting a werewolf, she wasn't sure who they would contact first – her aunt or St. Mungos?

Then she realised that her thoughts had caused her to drift out of formation.

"Concentrate, Black! Get your head in the game or I'll put it there for you!" Yelled Flint.

She sighed and reached out to grab the Quaffle as Teddy passed it to her, and then hurled it past Flint and into the goal post. It was a good score and even Flint looked pleased with her, if a little surprised. She smiled and high-fived Teddy and Adrian. True, it was a goal based on more luck than judgement, but she wasn't going to complain.

The laugh died on her face when out of the corner of her eye she fancied she saw her father watching, clapping, laughing with her. She shook her head. For the rest of the practice she was distracted, and couldn't focus on the game, the Quaffle, her father or even her dilemma over Professor Lupin. Flint was not happy with her, and made it very clear through the rest of the training session.

When practice was over, Draco held her back in the changing rooms.

"Are you alright, Maia?"

She nodded.

"Are you quite sure?"

She sank down onto one of the benches and started to pull the tangles out of her hair, trying her best to avoid Draco's gaze. "I imaged that I saw dad when I was flying earlier."

Draco sat down next to her, carefully pulled her hands out of her hair and folded them inside of his own. "I'm sorry."

She nodded, looking up at the ceiling and blinking rapidly. "It's been just over three months now."

He squeezed her hands, "But it's been getting... easier? Hasn't it?"

"Yes, but then I feel guilty. I feel like it shouldn't get easier. If I'm happy, it's like I've forgotten about it for a moment, and that I'm betraying him."

Draco bit his lip. His mother would know what to say, but he had no idea. He loved Maia as a sister, but he had no idea how to help her or comfort her, however much he might like to. Sometimes, it really did surprise him how close he and Maia had become, given the differences between their births. But then, she was still his _cousin_ and they still shared a great deal of noble, magical blood. And as the whole family had said a number of times, Maia was the exception that proved the rule. "I don't... I don't know what to say. I don't know how to help you."

"I couldn't expect that of you."

He squeezed her hands again, "And I don't know how to explain this properly either. But even if you didn't see Uncle Marius, what do you think he would say if he were here now?" He paused as Maia started to cry. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry."

She shook her head, "No, go on. Please."

"Well, I meant... I was only going to say that if he were here, he would probably tell you off. Or maybe not tell you off, perhaps, but he would tell you not to be sad. He wouldn't feel betrayed if you were happy. I think he would feel betrayed if you _weren't_ happy. He spoiled you so much, Maia, and loved you so much, I'm sure that he would want you to be happy more than anything else. If he saw you laughing, and playing Quidditch, and doing well in school, then he would be happy as well."

Maia nodded and brushed away a tear. "Thank you." She grabbed his hand a kissed it quickly, "You really are the best brother a girl could ask for."

He stood up and pulled her to her feet. "Shall we go back to the Common Room? I could order a house elf to bring us hot chocolate?"

"No... No thank you. I'll follow you up in a minute. I think I'll just go for a walk."

Draco tilted his head, concerned. "Are you sure? I don't mind waiting."

"No," she said firmly, now that she'd made up her mind, "I just want to walk and clear my head. I won't be long."

"Well, I'll come looking for you if I get worried."

Draco left and Maia sat back down on the bench. What would make her father happy? What would her father do?

Having been the victim of prejudice for so many years, he would not be proud of her if he knew that she was willingly and consciously perpetuating it herself.

And that was how she made her decision.

She would write to Professor Lupin. And if she thought she was in any danger, or had made a mistake, she would confess to her aunt, who would resolve any problem and forgiver her and error, after she had ranted and raved about it for at least thirty six hours.

After all, it was impossible that her father or aunt had knowingly acted in bad faith. They must have been misinformed, and had reacted out of fear, not prejudice or anything wrong like that. Well, she didn't know the specifics, but she assumed that something to that effect had occurred.

Maia reached round to her school back and pulled out a quill and sheet of parchment. She used one of Lockhart's books to rest on and drafted out her letter.

...

Remus Lupin sipped the firewhiskey straight from the bottle. It was late at night, and he knew he should be going to bed, but he couldn't bring himself to get off his sofa. If he got off the sofa, it meant admitting that he had to get up early to go to his soul-crushing, dead-end job. At least he had a job, and a steady job. He ought to be thankful.

An owl tapped on his window, which he opened with a wave of his wand. It flew down in front of him and he recognised the owl as a Hogwarts one. He had half a mind to burn the letter without opening it. If Dumbledore was sending him news, nothing good could come of it. Then he saw the crest. The House of Black. His blood ran cold. Was it Cassiopeia? But it was a Hogwarts owl... It couldn't be? Could it?

Hoping against hope, he reached forward and snatched up the letter, tearing the seal and devouring the neat, elegant cursive handwriting that rolled across the crisp parchment.

_Dear Professor Lupin,_

_I am not sure if you remember who I am, but my name is Maia Violetta Black and my father engaged you as my tutor when I was a small child. I apologise for contacting you in such an improper and unsolicited manner, but I wished to speak to you on a matter which I know to be delicate, and fear to be urgent._

_While I know how and why my father employed you, I am less aware of the reasons for your dismissal. However, I knew that the main issue was that you suffer from lycanthropy. As I said before, I know that this is a delicate subject. However, if the only reason for your dismissal was your condition, then I wish to extend my apologies to you. _

_My mother and father could not have known the true nature of your condition. As I am sure you must understand, they have always been guided by my aunt it all matters magical. If they were mistaken in their understanding of your morality or humanity, they were misinformed. I know that they may have wronged you greatly, but this was not their intention. Moreover, while they may appear the reverse to you, my parents have always been good people. As for my aunt, I know that ignorance is never an excuse, but she has many old fashioned ideas and I believe that she gained her views in an earlier era, and has never been called upon to change them._

_I have already addressed why this is a matter of delicacy, however it is also a matter of urgency. It has been many years since the events to which the letter refers took place. In that time, I know you have never received an apology from my family. It is a matter of honour and conscience that I now, as the Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, offer you my sincerest apology for what took place, and my deepest regret that my House insulted you. _

_Yours sincerely,_

_Maia Violetta Black._

He re-read the contents of the letter five times before he was sure that he was not hallucinating. But his eyes did not deceive him. Maia... Annie had really come back into his life. Well, not entirely, but she had contacted him. He knew that she was alive and well. Dumbledore had informed him of Marius' death and Remus had to admit that the news had wounded him. He had always liked Marius, even after his dismissal, but the news that Maia would undoubtedly be left in the care of Cassiopeia Black had been far more difficult to stomach than anything else. He had had half a mind to go and rescue her himself, and the only thing which had stopped him and been Dumbledore's command that he refrain.

Yet here was a letter than proved, in spite of all Cassiopeia's scheming and hoping, that Annie was not evil, or Dark, or prejudiced or hate-filled. She was clearly stuck up, and snobby and overly wealthy, but she was not a bad person. At least not completely.

What had his old mantra been? 'Bad manners and rudeness are the sign of an over-indulged child, not actual signs of fundamental evil.'

He laughed out loud to recall it now.

He ran a hand through his hair a let out a sigh of relief. He remembered the small child who he had taught to brew her first potion; she might be buried, but she was still there. He summoned his own quill and parchment, and chewed his lower lip. How would he respond?

His dipped the tip of the quill into the ink and paused, before nodding to himself, and making his first mark on the parchment.

_Dear Miss. Black,_

_Thank you for you kind letter. Its unexpected nature did not trouble me in the slightest. I wish to assure you that I have never borne you or your family any ill-will over what happened regarding my dismissal. It is the nature of my condition to induce fear, and I cannot blame others for acting on this. I do thank you for showing such empathy and understanding, it displays a maturity beyond your years which many would not expect. _

_Now it is my turn to fear that I am taking a liberty; I heard of the passing of your father with great regret. Please allow me to express my sorrow and my condolences for your loss. I also lost my father when I was a young man, although older than yourself, and the pain was indescribable. A wise man once told me that those who love us, never truly leave us, and I am sure that you father was, and is, very proud of you. _

_Now, as your former tutor, allow me to assure you that should you ever wish to contact me, or ask for advice regarding your studies, I will be more than happy to oblige you. _

_Yours sincerely,_

_Remus John Lupin._

He re-read the letter before rolling up the parchment and attaching it to the owl's leg. He hoped it was formal enough to appeal to the snobby mindset Cassiopeia had clearly created within her. He also hoped that it was personal enough to remind her that they were once friends, and open enough to encourage her to respond. He had thought that he should contact Dumbledore, but despite admiring 'the wise man', this was a private affair and Dumbledore would no doubt warn him away once again. He could not lose Annie yet again.

He watched the owl disappear into the night and prayed to Merlin that she would answer.

...

Late that very same night, Lucius Malfoy sipped his own firewhiskey, although his had been poured from a crustal decanter into a crystal tumbler. He swilled the contents and breathed in the aroma. He wished it would calm him. He wished he could settle the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wished he could drink himself into oblivion.

Unless Arthur Weasley possessed better contacts that Lucius had expected, and had managed to cover the scandal up, the Weaslette brat had not handed over the diary. He had no idea what the diary would do, or what it contained, because he was not fool enough to investigate Dark Lord's secrets, but he was also not fool enough to try and delude himself into thinking that the diary was harmless. He could literally feel the Dark Magic pulsing through the object when he held it in his hands.

Yet he was a practised and skilled wizard, would the fool Arthur Weasley recognise the trace of magic? Would a child, and a Weasel child at that?

And so, if the girl had not handed the diary over, the only logical train of thought available led him to conclude that the diary remained in her possession. And, from there, he presumed that a dangerous and Dark magical object was now in Hogwarts, in the very same building where his son – and the children of many of his closest allies – currently resided.

This was bad. This was very, very bad.

Of course, it was bad that innocent children were in danger. And despite his many faults, Lucius Malfoy did not _want_ to have a hand in the murder of children, even if they were filthy mudbloods. Those brats might not deserve much, but they didn't deserve to _die_.

Moreover, it would be bad politically if any of the pureblood scions were harmed.

And this was the only thought which made his blood truly run cold; there was the chance that his son could be endangered. He might have a testing relationship with Draco, and Draco might disappoint him in a number of respects, but the boy was still his son and he loved him nevertheless.

He downed the glass and filled the tumbler again with a wave of his wand.

He wished he knew what he was up against.

And he wished there was something he could do.

But he could hardly confess?

He could hardly owl Dumbledore and warn him?

He could do nothing without destroying himself and the Malfoy name, and those were the two things it was his duty to protect at all cost.

_At all cost_.

...

The next morning, Maia awoke while Daphne and Tracey were still sleeping heavily. She sighed and walked over to her dresser, giving the dainty, coloured bottles belonging to her two roommates the same wide berth as ever.

She rubbed her eyes as she looked in the mirror. She hadn't slept well at all. After deciding that her father would want her to act against any and all forms of prejudice, she had worried that he would consider it a betrayal for her to go behind the backs of her elders and contact a man – a _werewolf_ – who had been forbidden to have anything to do with the Black family.

At least Draco had not sent anyone to look for her, and he had refused to order hot chocolate, or allow anyone else to order hot chocolate, until she had joined them. It was of more than a little comfort to her to know that she was well on her way to securing her place as Slytherin Princess.

Once she had brushed her hair and washed her face, Tracey and Daphne made their way into the bathroom and began to prepare themselves for the day. Maia excused herself, and made her own way to the Great Hall. Draco and Blaise were still getting ready, as were Parkinson and Bulstrode, while Vincent and Gregory were too wrapped up in their pile of bacon and sausages to notice her arrival. She coughed delicately, as they couldn't _not_ greet her, and then poured her own tea after they had done so.

It was only then that she noticed the owl awaiting her arrival. It was the same owl she had despatched the night before, and she had not anticipated such a speedy response. She swallowed her fears and reached out to take the owl, trying to look as disinterested as she could. While she was curious, she was also very wary and she didn't want to draw attention to what could have been one of the biggest mistakes of her life thus far.

She broke the seal and slowly read the letter Professor Lupin had sent...

...

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed and commented last time. I'm glad that you like the new direction. Reviews would be 'most acceptable', as Maia would say. I really like to know what you liked and what you didn't. : ) **

**Yes, I am trying to keep all the canon characters in character (so let me know if you think anyone is too OOC). However, slight changes will occur. Draco, for example, is very influenced by his father's ideas, but Maia is his 'exception'. So as for future plotlines, it'll be a case of how far he's willing to go to keep her happy.**

**As for any future 'realisations' and friendships... don't hold your breath. : ) After all, the ability to sit next to each other in silence for a few hours, and actual friendship, are quite different things! I want to keep Maia in character as well, after all, i.e. arrogant, spoilt and relentlessly loyal to her family. Sorry! **


	42. Enemies Of The Heir

**I do not own Harry Potter, everything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

Chapter Forty Two

"Who's written to you then, Maia? I don't recognise the hand?" Said Draco, brushing the crumbs from his hands elegantly as he finished his last slice of toast.

Maia folded the parchment slowly and arched an eyebrow, "Are you trying to read a private and personal letter over the shoulder of the Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black?"

Draco laughed and shook his head, "Really Maia, what have you got to be defensive about?"

"What reason have you got to be nosy?"

"Other than the fact that he _is_ nosy?" Added Tracey, reaching across to slap Blaise's hand away from the last pain au chocolat. She smirked at him as she dropped the pastry onto her own plate.

"I was merely taking an interest in my cousin's welfare."

"I assure you, the House of Black is powerful enough that the House of Malfoy need not unduly exert itself."

Draco rolled his eyes, grinning, "This House of Black has nothing on the House of Malfoy."

"In your dreams, perhaps."

By now, Bulstrode and Parkinson were shooting them sour looks, even if they were silent.

Daphne coughed and tossed her champagne-coloured hair, "I think you'll find that both the aforementioned Houses pale in comparison to the House of Greengrass."

Blaise stood up, rolling his eyes, and swung his satchel onto his shoulder, "Come on, we've got Lockhart first. If we leave now, we should be able to get the seats at the back."

All around them, Slytherins from all years were rising decorously from their seats and quietly making their way to their various classes. The first year trio of boys made the most noise, while their female counterparts led the way in despair. They were rapidly giving up hope that the boys would ever become gentlemen.

Tracey stood up immediately after Blaise, "Oh yes, I want to be out of the direct firing line."

This was enough to end their jest and the second years all left, quickly making their exit. The Gryffindors saw them, guessed their plan, and followed in hot pursuit. In the end, there was something of a scuffle as they all fell through the door. Maia managed to sit in the back by drawing her wand on Thomas and Finnegan, assuring them that her aunt had taught her the castration curse and that she was not afraid to use it.

Sharing the desk with Blaise, Maia smirked as Thomas and Finnegan (who had been forced to resign themselves to the front row) were called upon to play ghouls. Knowing that Blaise would show more respect for her privacy that Draco, she reached back into her satchel and read Professor Lupin's letter once again.

...

That evening, rather than doing her homework in the library, she spent her time composing another letter to Professor Lupin. Although Hermione Granger had inexplicably asked to sit with her again, they did so in silence and she wasn't forced to converse with the girl who she still considered unutterably tiresome.

...

_24__th__ September 1992_

_Dear Professor Lupin,_

_I wish to thank you for your kind words regarding my father. I found them to be genuinely comforting. I also wish to thank you for your magnanimous attitude towards my family and myself. _

_I am enjoying my studies at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but if it is not too much trouble, I would like to take you up of your offer of academic advice. I am not satisfied with the academic provision regarding Defence Against the Dark Arts. Perhaps you could recommend some text books, which would be suitable for a proficient second year student? _

_Yours sincerely,_

_Maia Violetta Black_

_..._

_28__th__ September 1992_

_Dear Miss. Black,_

_It is no trouble at all. If you feel that you have not progressed adequately this year, I advise first that you revise your notes from last year. It is very important to have no gaps in your knowledge or understanding. Once you are sure that you are confident in the basics (although I am convinced that you already are, as I always found you to be a talented student) I suggests that you study the following books. _

_Practical Defensive Magic and Its Uses Against the Dark Arts_

_Self-Defensive Spellwork_

_A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Remus Lupin_

_..._

_12__th__ October 1992_

_Dear Professor Lupin,_

_Thank you for your list. I have been devoting extra time each evening to the study of the texts which you recommended. However, I have a question pertaining to the Flagrante Curse, as it was discussed in A Compendium of Common Curses and their Counter Actions. It claims that there is not counter-curse to the Flagrante Curse. However, I am sure that I recall my aunt discussing her use of this curse, and I believe that the Impervius Charm may provide some form counter-action. However, I do not remember the specifics of the discussion. Is there any possibility that this may be correct?_

_Your faithful correspondent,_

_Maia Black_

_..._

_15__th__ October 1992_

_Dear Miss. Black,_

_I am pleased that you are a diligent student, although I must remind you to take a break a take from your studies. You will have plenty time to study all hours of the day and night when you take your OWLS and NEWTS. You must assure me that you spend time with your friends and relax. _

_However, I will of course answer your question. It is possible that the Impervious Charm can provide a counter-action, but it is not a complete counter curse. It provides a numbing effect, which varies greatly depending upon the strength of the charm cast. _

_Your humble servant,_

_Lupin_

_..._

_21__st__ October 1992_

_Dear Lupin,_

_Thank you for your answer, would the Augumenti Charm also act against the burning sensation? Or would the heat merely cause a large amount of steam? _

_I make sure that I spend at least half an hour or an hour relaxing in the Common Room with my friends each evening, unless Quidditch practise lasts late into the night. I made the team as Chaser last month. I don't suppose you remember our speculation as to my future Hogwarts House, but I followed the family tradition and went to Slytherin. I have made some truly wonderful friends here, who have been a great help and comfort to me in recent months. I shan't be abandoning them completely for the library. _

_Also, you mentioned OWLS. I am given to understand that during Yule I will need to make my course selections for third year, which I will then continue to OWL level. I know that my Aunt Cassiopeia wishes me to take Arithmancy and Ancient Runes and I am inclined to follow her wishes. I need to take two further subjects at a minimum, but I believe that I could manage a third quite comfortably. Divination feels a little superfluous, given my abilities. My cousin, Draco Malfoy, wishes to take Care of Magical Creature, but I feel that this will come dangerously close to manual labour. My aunt would disapprove strongly, and I can see no benefit in the subject. I am inclined to take Muggle Studies. I do have muggle heritage, yet I feel woefully ignorant of muggle life and habits. I wish to learn more about my father's life, and believe that this would be very good opportunity to do so. Could I trouble you to offer your own opinion on the matter?_

_With fond regards,_

_Black. _

_..._

_26__th__ October 1992_

_Dear Black,_

_Thank you for your lengthy letter. I am very pleased to hear that you are happy in your House, and have made good friends. I am pleased that they have stood by you. _

_Regarding the Augumenti Charm, I have never been in a position to attempt such a response. However, I think that the latter scenario is perhaps the most likely outcome. When it comes to your final elective choice, I will simply say that if you are going to take on the extra work of a third subject, it should be a labour of love. You should chose the subject which you want to study, and which you will enjoy. Your reasoning for taking Muggle Studies is very admirable. We should never underestimate or ignore the muggles with whom we share this country._

_With fondest regards,_

_Lupin._

_..._

After a first, few nervous and hesitant letters, the letters between Remus Lupin and Maia Black flew thick and fast. Now Remus was reading through Maia's latest letter – she was excited for Halloween, but nervous for her first Quidditch match – and wondering how he should respond. They had gradually moved away from reserved and civil comments and observations, and their letters were warm and surprisingly friendly. Although their friendship was not at a level where they would refer to each other by their given names, they referred to each other by their surnames only as a gesture of informality.

Reading her letters, it was abundantly clear that she was a true Daughter of the House of Black. Her turn of phrase showed that she had spent a great deal of time in conversation with Cassiopeia Black, and he remembered those early weeks in the schoolroom when her tempers and looks had forcibly reminded him of both Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy. From the way she came across in her letters, he was sure that these similarities had only grown over time.

However, he still saw Marius' sense of duty, justice and honour in her writing, and Caroline's warmth and kindness. Both were restrained and tempered (the latter more than the former) but he consoled himself that he need not concern himself with her becoming as Dark as her father. Her birth father, that was.

He had finally resigned himself to understanding that she was not Sirius' child, and she was not really Marlene's either. She had been raised, shaped and moulded by her life within the House of Black. And the result was not _that_ unpleasant. She was not really his Goddaughter either. She did not act or think or feel in the way he would have raised her to do so. He could not pretend to himself that she was Annie. She was Maia, and through her letters, he was coming to know her again and care for her for herself.

He really only had one concern: what would happen if Cassiopeia Black were to ever uncover their correspondence?

...

Maia folded the most recent of Lupin's letters and hid it at the bottom of her trunk, tied in a bundle with the rest of their correspondence. It wouldn't do to have anyone else know that she was conversing with a werewolf, even if she had changed her views on the matter.

She had come to the conclusion that werewolves were like muggleborns. Some werewolves, like some muggleborns, were inclined towards incivility, barbarity and violence. It was the same as Aunt Cassiopeia had explained it to her. While some muggleborns were little more than vermin, some could be perfectly reasonably; Finch-Fletchley, for example. Although he was a fool, he was well-bred and generally presentable to polite company. Granger had her (many) failings, but she _was_ intelligent. She didn't know enough of Thomas to make a judgement, but Daniel Stretton was such a dear that it was no wonder it had taken them days to realise his parentage.

Werewolves were the same, some were good and some were bad, and Professor Lupin was one of the good ones.

Anyway, it was very good of him to reassure her about the upcoming Quidditch match, even if she remained nervous.

She wasn't overly concerned about her own performance. She performed at a consistent level with a steady rate of improvement under Flint's dedicated training regime. Her fears – although she would not voice them to anyone – largely found their source in the fact that Draco was getting worse, not better. His failure to perform as well as Potter meant that he was becoming increasingly nervous. His dread of his father's reaction to this failure made matters even worse. She'd tried, subtlety, to convince him of his abilities but he refused to discuss the matter. In truth, it seemed he'd recently found his own solution. If he performed poorly due to nerves, he was determined to take Potter down with him.

Askella jumped up on her lap and began to lick her fingers. Maia rolled her eyes and laughed, scratching the silver-grey cat behind her ears. There was a quick rap on the door, which was then pushed open to reveal Tracey and Daphne.

"Maia, are you coming? We're going to finish our guises now, ready for tomorrow."

Maia paused from scratching Askella's ears. Tomorrow was Halloween, All Hallow's Eve. Even muggles recognised the significance of the night; the night when the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead was at its weakest. Most of the older wizarding families – more often as testament to their ancient roots than anything else – continued to observe the rituals of their ancestors. While all of Hogwarts would have a feast, some students would be continuing the celebrations in their Common Room afterwards, most notably the Slytherin Common Room.

This had often been one of Maia's favourite celebrations. The weakening of the veils made for particularly strong visions, but this year she both feared and longed for contact from the other side.

She realised that Tracey and Daphne were both waiting for her to respond.

"Yes, of course. I'll join you directly."

She stood up – she had to carry on as normal. She was a Black and the Heir, she couldn't hide or mope or shirk away from one of the most significant events in the wizarding calendar – and followed them down to the Common Room.

Parkinson and Bulstrode had joined them. Last year they had worked on their guises and celebrated alone. Maia looked over and saw that Daniel Stretton was being taught all about Halloween by the other first years, and that he, Florian Burke and Caleb Parkin seemed to be having a competition to see who could make the most terrifying mask. It was good that he was being included, she thought, and was pleased that he had settled in so well.

Maia picked up her own mask and began to cover it in tiny green circles made from glass, using them to draw Runes for vision, knowledge, foresight and clarity from the book they were all sharing, which lay open on the table before them.

...

By the time the final course for the Halloween feast had been cleared, Maia was full and content. An evening spent laughing and chatting with her friends had gone a great way to settling her nerves about the whole celebration. It was has she had said before, doing something again for the first time without her father would be difficult – like flying – but once she had gritted her teeth and borne it, she found that she could and would survive. She felt slightly guilty to admit it, but she was happy.

Bertram Nott was sitting with his brother Teddy, and both of them were doing disparaging impressions of Cornelius Fudge and other senior ministry officials. As their own father did not escape this, everyone felt free to laugh at both their political allies and enemies.

Queenie Greengrass was adding a running, witty commentary to their antics, whilst the first years – led by Caleb Parkin and co. – were doing a very good job of eating all the pumpkin pie. A few seventh years were trying very hard to be disapproving and sophisticated, but most of them had given up and were enjoying themselves. It was a rare sight, but the students of Slytherin were letting their hair down (metaphorically) in _public_!

Maia looked over and waved to Ernie, who would be joining them in the Slytherin Common Room later. Halloween was a celebration for family, and most of his relatives were snakes. Apparently a fair number of Hufflepuffs did keep the old ways, and Cedric Diggory had apparently issued an invitation to Ernie to celebrate with them on a number of occasions. Luckily, he still preferred Maia to Diggory.

Finally, Dumbledore stood up and made his closing speech, telling them to be grateful for the truest magic that was bought out by gatherings and festivals such as this; the magic of love and friendship. Usually, Maia was inclined to think the old man an offensive, meddling, fool. As he had mortally offended her, she would never move from this opinion, but as she looked around at the friends and the families, the full bellies and the contented faces, she was inclined to agree. Just this once. After all, there were very few things in this world as important as friends and family. In fact, was there even anything as important as family? As the people she loved?

Draco linked his arm through hers, and led the way out of the Great Hall, before the masses descended. Blaise followed, the Tracey on his right arm and Daphne on his left, while Vincent escorted Bulstrode and Gregory escorted Parkinson. As they made the turn through the heavy, wooden doors, they came to an abrupt halt.

There, hanging from the ceiling, was the frozen, lifeless form of Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat. Her body swung eerily from side to side, and her open eyes were glassy and unseeing. A pool of water filled the ground beneath her, mirroring her empty gaze, and reflecting something, something red, something that gleamed...

Maia looked up to see what it was.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

And then suddenly, a voice nearby called out, "You'll be next, mudbloods!"

...

**Reviews would be great! I hope that I'm making Maia's changing attitudes believable, as people don't change overnight. I hope that everyone's happy with the 'Lupin Realisation'. (I did like that – thank you!) Thank you as well to everyone who had reviewed, followed and added the story to favourites. It really means a lot and all feedback is welcomed. **

**Thank you for all the Quidditch responses, I'm definitely going to keep Quidditch in the plotline for the foreseeable future! : ) **


	43. Crossing The Veil

**I do not own Harry Potter. Everything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling. **

Chapter Forty Three

Instinctively and without evening wanting to show such weakness, Maia tightened her grip on Draco's arm.

Draco turned round slowly to the source of the proclamation and saw an increasingly nervous-looking Pansy Parkinson.

"I'll thank you to hold your tongue, Parkinson." He said coolly.

From that moment, the chaos returned as the Headmaster appeared and led Potter, Granger and Weasley away, whilst Parkinson found herself dragged back to the Slytherin Common Room by her ear by a grim-faced Bertram Nott.

"It has become plainly evident, Parkinson, that you are under the delusion that your opinions hold value and that you have the right to speak and be heard. Please allow me to relieve you of this gross misunderstanding."

"How dare you cart me around like this!"

"Until you can be trusted to leave the Common Room without bringing shame on the House of Salazar Slytherin, I will 'cart you about' as I see fit!"

Pansy squealed at a sudden increase in pain, "Ow! You don't have to twist it, Nott!"

Gemma Farley was not inclined to be sympathetic. "Don't make that noise, you sound like pig. Slytherin even has a muggleborn student and a number of half bloods with muggleborn parents. This incident is going to bring enough suspicion – and reprisals no doubt – upon our House without you making our lot worse."

"Slytherin is a House of purity! You know it is!"

"It's a House for the purity of intellect, good sense and self-preservation. As you lack all of the above, I've no idea why we let you in!" said Bertram, continuing his tirade from there.

Further behind, the rest of the Slytherin second years walked close together. Bulstrode had slipped away in the crowd. They suspected it was on purpose.

Blaise bit his lip before speaking, "This is not going to be good for inter-House relations."

Daphne laughed sarcastically, "When were they ever good?"

Tracey smirked, "I think a truce was declared at some point in the mid-sixteenth century."

Blaise shook his head, "This is serious, you two. Parkinson can't be the only person who was thinking that."

Draco nodded, "He's right. I said before about my father's warning, that blood purity could become an issue this year. We have to be careful."

"This isn't what he meant, surely?" said Blaise.

Draco shook his head quickly, "Of course he couldn't have known about this, but he has all sorts of contacts, he might have had a tip off, and he never says anything lightly."

Tracey rolled her eyes. "You two are being ridiculously over dramatic, it's just a cat. It was probably a prank. Everyone hates Filch."

Blaise stopped in his tracks, "You, Tracey, have to stop being flippant. You heard Dumbledore, this was Dark magic. And this affects you more that it affects others."

"Why?"

"Because you're a half blood, and your father's muggleborn."

Draco slowed down as well, "And everyone knows that Filch is practically a Squib. I think he actually is one."

Blaise and Draco looked from Tracey to Maia and back again. Draco pushed his hand through his hair. "Neither of you are going anywhere unescorted until this is sorted out. The rest of the school can go to Morganna, but we look after our own."

Daphne, Tracey and Maia all protested loudly but their grievances fell on death ears. In their group, Draco's word had always been law. And, as he pointed out, there were so many purebloods in their group that Maia and Tracey would hardly notice a difference.

Just before they reached the Common Room, Maia pulled Draco to one side.

He rolled his eyes, "I'm not changing my mind, cousin."

"No, it's not about that. I just wanted to say that I'm really proud of you."

He frowned, "What in Salazar's name do you mean?"

"Draco, you've said horrible things to and about muggleborns for years, and then you put Parkinson down in front of the whole school. I'm proud of you."

"But I didn't say it for _muggleborns_. I said it for you." He paused, "And Tracey. Surely no one would think that I'm... that I'm a...?" His voice trailed away as he failed to find the words to complete the sentence. "I just remember that you got upset when I called Granger a mudblood – and I stick by that, she's foul – but I've not exactly forgiven Parkinson for what she did to you either. I just... Oh Merlin..."

"Be that as it may," Maia smiled, "it's something of a stepping stone."

His face fell even further and he began to pace the floor. He pushed his hand through his hair not once but twice, and then grabbed Maia's shoulders roughly. "You must never tell my father."

"Pardon?"

"You must never tell my father, swear it. Please, Maia, you have to."

"But why, and it's not like he's here-"

"Please, you have to. As my cousin, my sister!" He shook her.

"Of course, Draco. I swear it. I'd keep any secret for you."

He shook his head, but thanked her. Together they made their way back into the Common Room. The others were ready and waiting – except Parkinson and Bulstrode who had apparently already retired to their dorm room – and Daphne ran over and tied Maia's mask at the back of her head, before putting Draco's on for him as well.

All around the room, clusters of students were eating food and playing various types of games. They remained with their own friends, but everyone was smiling and laughing. The youngest students ran around – infuriating the eldest with their lack of proper decorum – and people chatted happily.

"We weren't going to let you two try and skip the party, not even if you're snuck off to discuss important _Heir_ stuff. We can't be miserable over a cat, even if Blaise gets all melodramatic about it." She laughed. "Come on!" she said, taking one of their hands in each of their own and pulling them towards Tracey and Blaise, who were filling a tub with water, whilst Queenie handed out apples.

Bertram stood up and cleared his throat. "The order of this evenings proceedings are as fol-"

"Ignore him, he's been on the firewhiskey already." Called Queenie with a smile.

"You would be as well, if you had to deal with Parkinson's temper tantrums."

Queenie looked heavenwards. "Right, you know the drill people. We've been doing this for centuries. I want you to stand lady, gentleman, lady, gentleman around the tub, gentleman facing inwards and ladies outwards. Each gentleman holds a knife, passes it to the lady on his right, and each lady in turn will peel her apple, toss it over her _left _shoulder, chanting the incantation, which will then reveal her future lover."

Draco turned round, "Is there anyone here who didn't already know that?"

"I would hate to see you embarrass yourself, young Master Malfoy." She said with a mocking curl of her lip that was eerily Snape-esque. The Common Room was Maia's favourite part of the whole castle. Here was the only place that they could relax, could turn off the rigid formality which their families had ingrained into them since they were children. She wondered what the other Common Rooms were like, but then she'd seen the lion's table manners had was pleased she didn't know. If that was what they were like in public, she hated to think how they might behaved when they _relaxed_.

She looked around herself. Their group was not particularly large. It included all the first years, as well as Bertram Nott, his brother Teddy Nott, Queenie Greengrass, Adrian Pucey as he was Teddy's best friend, and a few other people with whom Maia was not acquainted. Maia smiled at Teddy as he passed her the knife and winked.

"We both know I'm your heart's desire."

"You wish, my friend, you wish." said Adrian.

It seemed that most of the girls were on the receiving end of similar banter until Queenie called them to order.

"Daphne, you go first."

Daphne smiled, tucked her hair behind her ears, and began to peel her apple. All the time she chanted,

"Sprits, as thy stars art in the heavens,

And as thy hour draws now near,

Show me what thou see'st there written,

Show'st me what my heart holds dear."

She tossed the peel over her left shoulder, and quickly turned round to see what was written.

"It didn't work." She said, sounding disappointed.

Maia turned round to look, and, sure enough, Daphne's peel had formed a long straight line across the tub, making no letter.

"Of course it worked, it means that you're going to die an unloved, unwanted old maid." Said Teddy, throwing his arms out dramatically.

This made her laugh, and they quickly moved on to Queenie's turn. There were no surprises there when her peel formed and unmistakable 'N'. There was a great deal of teasing, which made Queenie blush. Bertram wasn't unnerved in the slightest and leaned across to peck her on the forehead.

Teddy nudged Maia, "He's definitely been on the firewhiskey."

"Oh hush, I think it's sweet. It's All Hallow's Eve, after all."

Tracey peel's formed a 'B'. Blaise blushed profusely, and Teddy piped up that his middle name was 'Bartholomew', while another unknown boy introduced himself as Caspar Bridhock.

Maia peeled her apple slowly. She'd always found this game silly. Aunt Cassiopeia never allowed it to be played at home, claiming that sensible young witches and wizards found their spouses through familial alliances and allegiances. She tossed the peel and spun round and watched it form an unmistakable 'J'.

The games went on late into the night, when a seventh year cast a heatless, damage-free fire in the middle of the Common Room, while a few more waved their wands and guided the furniture to the edges of the room, so that there would be plenty of space to dance.

"This has always been my favourite bit!" laughed Maia, clutching Draco in one hand and Daphne in the other as they ran to join one of the circles.

The innermost circle skipped clockwise, the next counter-clockwise, and each further alternated this as they reached out to the very edges of the Common Room. They all skipped and laughed and sang for a few minutes until the clock struck midnight. They could feel the energy of their magic buzzing in the air.

A fourth year boy was the first to sink to the ground, clutching his head. Then two or three more followed.

Maia found herself wondering if she wanted her father to contact her – would that make her feel worse again? But what sort of daughter was she if she _didn't_ want him to contact her? And what if he didn't contact her? Why wouldn't he? Would something stop him? What if he wasn't happy on the other side?

Before she could think anymore, she found herself on her knees. She thought her head might explode. She screwed her eyes closed and her world went black, until a small dot of light appeared, as though it were far away. It came closer, forming a figure, and closer still, until the shape of a young woman was standing before her. Her long chestnut hair tumbled over her shoulders, and her lips parted as though she were about to speak, but at the last moment she smiled instead and vanished as quickly as she had appeared.

Maia opened her eyes to see Draco standing in front of her, "Did you see your father?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I saw a woman, but I don't recognise her at all."

Draco laughed, "Probably some ancestor from three hundred years ago to complain that the library isn't in the right order."

"She had chestnut hair?"

"Don't say that, people might think we're related to the Weasleys." He laughed.

Maia laughed too, as she had long ago decided to ignore visions that made no sense. Dwelling over the incomprehensible only served to give divination a bad name. And she had no control over the visions; she couldn't force her father to come to her. Perhaps he didn't want to upset her when she just starting to feel vaguely normal again? Or, perhaps, he couldn't wield the magic of All Hallow's Eve? That thought hadn't occurred to her, but he was a Squib, after all. She shook her head. If she was going to worry or be sad, she would have to save it for later that night, when she was safely in bed, when nobody else would know.

Next to them, Daphne fell to her knees. Her vision was brief, she looked up smiling and blinking away tears. "My grandmother said hello, and told me to be careful. She always was a bit of an old fuss-pot."

...

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! Yes, I don't want to make the story an overly sad one if I can help it, but I do want to make Maia's grief realistic. And I hope that I updated soon enough for you all! I'll try and put in some more Sirius-drama soon. I don't want to give away too many spoilers here about Maia/Sirius reunions and discoveries, but feel free to PM me if you want to know more. Also, I'm excited for the rest of the year as well. I've got a lot of House of Black drama (away from Maia and Hogwarts) lined up that I can't wait to post! : ) **

**Feedback is always more than welcome. **


	44. All the Perfumes of Arabia

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

'**Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.' **_Lady Macbeth, Act V, Scene I from Macbeth by William Shakespeare _

Chapter Forty Four_ All the perfumes of Arabia_

Bellatrix was cackling again.

Sometimes, he wondered what it was that made her laugh? What could she possibly find so funny in a place like this?

But, perhaps, she fed off the misery, the sorrow and the despair. He'd always known that she was sick and twisted, even when they were small, even when they were children.

Perhaps a place like this made her happy?

Perhaps she fed off the horror like one of the soulless?

He'd always thought of her as a Dementor when they were little.

She'd always had the ability to suck all the joy out of any room, not that he'd ever found much joy in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black in the first place...

_He was four, she was twelve, and she was kicking his shin under the table. She'd been at it since the first course and they were now on the sixth. Relentlessly. Viciously. She wouldn't stop. He couldn't sit still. He couldn't stop squirming. He couldn't help from crying out. _

_And then his father towered over him..._

_His mother loomed in from behind..._

He shook his flea-bitten head.

He counted the bars. _1, 2, 3, 4..._

He counted his ribs. _1, 2, 4, 4..._

_I'm innocent_

_I'm innocent_

_I'm innocent_

They'd brought in a new prisoner about a week ago.

He knew because he could hear their screams.

He knew it had been about a week because the screaming had stopped.

They all went quiet in the end.

They all went quiet after about a week.

But not him, he'd always been quiet.

He wouldn't scream.

He wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

He might howl, he might weep, he had even laughed for grief once, but he would never scream, never beg, never plead.

He would never give in.

_I'm innocent_

_I'm innocent_

_I'm innocent_

But was there any point in holding on?

...

While Maia and Tracey found themselves walking around with their friends as normal over the next few days, and that the only disruption to their lives was that Daphne had to join them in the girl's bathroom, poor Daniel Stretton was walking round with a battalion of Slytherin first years. What made it worse was when Filch dabbed his eyes gratefully as Daniel offered to say a prayer for Mrs. Norris, and have his father include her in their congregation's prayers as well. Life at Hogwarts had become far too melodramatic for Maia's tastes.

The rest of the school seemed to thrive on the morbidity of it – there was great speculation as to who their Heir of Slytherin might be.

Luckily for her, the library was a place of retreat. Although her friends joined her most of the time, as there had been no sighting of any untoward activity in the weekend following Hallowe'en, Maia was now allowed to study there alone. She wanted to roll her eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation.

As it was, she was trying to make sense of her Transfiguration homework when Hermione Granger, once again, appeared in front of her.

"Do you mind if I join you?" she asked, gesturing to the vacant chair opposite Maia.

"If you wish." She said, inclining her head.

Hermione placed a large number of books down on the table, and began to rifle through the index of each one in turn. Maia, on the other hand, was toying with the idea of cursing McGonagall. Hermione gave up first and snapped her book shut.

"Black, may I ask you something?"

Maia raised an eyebrow, "You may."

"Do you remember when we met on the Hogwarts Express and we were talking about books?"

Maia's eyebrow arched a little further. Of course she recalled the incident. She'd offered Granger her friendship, only for her to throw it back in her face a few short weeks later.

Just like a fickle muggle would, just like Holly and Rosie had.

"Well," continued Granger, tucking an escaped lock of bushy hair back behind her ear, "I'm sure I remember you saying that you had read _Hogwarts: A History_. Do you happen to have a copy here with you in Hogwarts? I wouldn't ask, but, well, all the other copies have been taken out. And I can hardly ask Professor Binns, can I?"

"I'm sure you _could_ ask him, but I doubt you'd get very far. Yes, I do have a copy." She paused, and looked Granger up and down. "I presume you wish to borrow it."

"Yes, if that isn't too much trouble."

Maia nodded slowly, thinking the situation over. She looked back at her homework. She had no desire to talk or socialise with Granger... but really, she could easily turn this interaction into little more than a business transaction, and it would work to her advantage.

"I will fetch it directly, but I refuse to do you a favour, Granger. If you want my book, you have to do something for me in return."

Hermione frowned slightly, "I'll consider your proposal, if you tell me what you want in return first."

Maia was almost impressed. Hermione was acting rather like a _Slytherin_. "You will first need to help me with my Transfiguration."

It could be worse. Hermione sighed, and held out a hand, "Fine, but I won't do it all."

Maia snapped her book shut, "How _dare_ you insinuate that I am somehow _incapable_ of doing my own work! I assure you that you are _gravely_ mistaken." She grabbed her papers together roughly, her colour on her pale cheeks rising, and made to leave. Hermione prickled with indignation and looked as though she was about to start shouting.

Just as suddenly, Hermione fought to stifle a giggle. She quelled slightly under Maia's glare. "I _am _sorry, Black. But your face, any one would think I'd mortally offended you."

"You have mortally offended me, and that wouldn't be the first time. And who would have thought that you, Granger, knew how to _apologise_?"

Hermione's hair seemed to bristle with suppressed rage, but she fought to keep it back. Hermione didn't imagine that she could be friends with Black, but she had no desire to lose her temper after the horrid thing that she had said last time they had argued. Less than a few weeks after she'd said that, Black had had to _bury_ her father. Her words seemed a hundred times worse in retrospect and she didn't like her feeling of guilt.

"I don't want to argue with you. I can apologise, I'm sorry I offended you. I'm just so used to finishing Ron's homework for him at the last minute that I acted out of habit. I usually only help, or correct, but sometimes it needs so much work doing... Harry's usually better, but when there's a Quidditch match..."

Maia nodded, not liking that she would now have to apologise to Granger as well. Etiquette, however, demanded she do so. "Please accept my apologies as well. I did not mean to be so short with you." Aunt Cassiopeia had, after all, always taught her to be civil to everyone, even her social inferiors.

Hermione nodded, "Shall we go through it together, perhaps?"

Hermione moved round the table so that they were sitting side by side. Hermione read through the work and nodded to herself as she did so. She suddenly smiled to herself and underlined a few lines. She kept reading, nodded again, and went back to those lines which she tapped with her quill.

"That's where you went wrong. It's all fine until the third stage, where you haven't taken into account McGregor's law of counter-effects, in that every action has an equal and opposite reaction, which means that once you've made the wand movement to effect the change, you have to also perform half the wand action to counter-act the change, in order to stabilise the transfiguration made."

Maia frowned at her words, then joined Hermione in her smile, "Of course, if you don't make the movement, all the magic that effected the change continues to try and continue the original action, which causes it to revert back on itself. The magic requires stability, to make the transfiguration pause. Half a reverse wand movement it enough to force the magic to lie dormant."

Hermione turned to her, clearly excited by the theory they were discussing, and said "Exactly! Any more reverse movement, and the transfigured object would revert to its original state, any less and it would revert anyway because the magic simply couldn't stay still, because, in effect, you need McGregor's rule to remind the magic that the spell's complete."

Maia pushed her hand through her hair, "That's so obvious, how could I have missed it?"

Hermione laughed, "It's always like that, isn't it?"

Maia found herself nodding in agreement and the two girls looked at each other awkwardly.

The laughter stopped abruptly.

"I'll go and fetch the book then."

When Maia returned, she saw that Hermione was buried in a copy of Lockhart's book to pass the time. She placed the book in front of Hermione and began to re-write her Transfiguration homework. It made a lot more sense. It was her weakest subject, but she knew how much her aunt wanted her to get an 'O'.

Her father would also have wanted her to get the best marks she could as well. Even if she, at the time of his death, had seen those hours spent studying as hours wasted.

She finished her homework before Hermione was finished with the book.

Hermione read and re-read the passage on the Chamber of Secrets. What could be in there that would rid the school of muggleborns, she thought. And how could it have been reopened after all these years? And who would do such a thing? And, on an entirely unrelated note, was it possible that she and Black might have just had a friendly conversation?

Perhaps she ought to at least try and repair the bridge between them?

They had got along well before her aunt's letter.

And Black hadn't done anything cruel this year.

Perhaps last year was the past, and ought to stay there.

Surely that was the logical, rational course of action?

She summoned up her Gryffindor courage.

"Do you like Transfiguration then, Black?"

Maia forced her face to remain impassive. That was what she had been schooled to do. Internally, she was surprised. Although they had been on reasonably and surprisingly civil terms since the start of the year, she was not going to betray any possibility of familiarity anytime soon.

But she had always hoped to have friends – and make allies – across the spectrum of the school's Houses. The friends would have pleased her father and the allies would please her aunt.

"I know that it is important." She paused, "But no, I don't particularly like it."

"Why not? Isn't it the most exciting branch of magic, to completely change one object into another?"

"The most obvious branch of magic yes, and anything obvious in inherently vulgar. I prefer Charms and Potions, were the spellwork is delicate and elegant. It might not be flashy or obvious, like Transfiguration, but that is a quality to it that I, personally, cannot find in Transfiguration."

"I see your point, but Transfiguration can become so complicated, there are so many variables that you have to consider, that I find an elegance in its intricacy."

Maia smiled diplomatically, convinced that she was entirely correct regardless. "I suppose you make a valid claim." She tilted her head over Hermione's book, "So why did you want to read _Hogwarts: A History_?"

"I wanted to find out about the Chamber of Secrets."

Maia nodded, "Yes, we've been talking about it in the Common Room a lot recently. It's quite a popular legend, you know. Slytherins have been searching for it for centuries." Hermione tried to hide her interest and Maia tossed her head derisively, "And it's never been found, and before you ask, I have no idea who was behind the prank on Hallowe'en."

"You think it's just a prank?"

"Until there's evidence to the contrary, I'm going to consider it a sick joke, and keep a closer eye on my own cat."

Really, just at the very moment the girl seemed to improve, she went back to being a ridiculous, over-excited, adventure-seeking, ill-informed Gryffindor.

...

Lucius Malfoy paced the floor, re-reading the letter from his son. If he hadn't been so... so _out of sorts_ himself, Lucius would have immediately written to the boy to reprimand him for the dramatic tone of his letter. He'd clearly tried to tell his tale with a flourish.

As it was, the boy had escaped for now.

Because he had a problem.

It seemed that Weasley had failed to notice that Dark object in his home, and had then sent his brat off to school with it.

Could the man _be_ any more useless as a wizard or a parent?

When he held that journal, he could feel the power it held. It had made him shudder to hold it. It made him shudder, even now, to merely recall it.

Of course, the Petrification of a Squib's cat was unimportant.

And how did he even know that the journal and the opening of the Chamber of Secrets was related? How could be sure?

He paced the room, trying to convince himself that there was no link.

But who had wanted to rid the world of mudblood filth?

And who had first owned the diary?

And he didn't care too much about what happened to most of the mudbloods in that crackpot's old school, who was to say that the attacks would be indiscriminate?

If a half blood was attacked, a half blood with a powerful family behind them, the implications for him could be... severe.

But then, as he paced, it had nothing to do with him.

It was completely beyond his control.

His hands smelled sweet.

His hands were clean.

Weren't they?

...

**Hello! Thank you so much for all the reviews from the last chapter – I really appreciated it. I added in the Sirius scene especially for all of you who requested it. As always, reviews and constructive criticism are always welcome. **


	45. Victory or Else

**I do not own Harry Potter**.

Chapter Forty Five_ Victory or Else_

Remus Lupin was now living in another part of the country. In fact, he'd moved to Ramsgate and the fresh, salty coastal air agreed with him. He had a new job in a small muggle library, which paid the bills and allowed him to read as much as he liked. Life was surprisingly pleasant.

He chewed the end of his quill and discarded his most recent attempt at a letter to Maia.

He took another gulp from his mug of rather strong tea – it was getting close to the full moon, again, and he found it helped – and pulled a fresh sheet of parchment towards him.

_Dear Black,_

_First of all, I know you are inclined to view the events of Halloween as a prank, and I can see your logic for doing so. However, please indulge an old man and take my advice to be careful. Even if it was a prank, and the Chamber has not been opened, it is hardly a funny prank. Whoever did such a thing is clearly a very troubled person, who has no qualms about attacking a defenceless creature. While Mrs. Norris may 'only' be a cat, any pain she felt would have been very real, and do not pretend that there was no human cost as well. I am sure that Caretaker Filch was deeply upset by what happened. _

_Secondly, and on a much happier note, I would like to wish you the very best of luck in the Quidditch match tomorrow. I am sure that you will play your best and be a credit to your team, although old House Rivalries dictate that I must keep my fingers crossed for Gryffindor as well._

_Fond regards,_

_Lupin._

...

It was the morning of the Quidditch match and Maia was reading Lupin's letter. He did make a fair point. She pushed her food around her plate, managed to eat half of it, and made her way down towards the changing rooms. The team were all in their kit already, but Flint wanted to give them a pep talk in private.

There was little he could say that would fill them with confidence. The storm that raged overhead on the ceiling of the Great Hall would only be a hundred times worse in real life.

Her mother, Aunt Cassiopeia and Uncle Lucius were waiting, along with other parents, outside of the changing rooms.

Deciding that she could, just the once, forsake her decorum, Maia ran to her mother and held her tightly. "I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too."

"Have you been alright?"

"Of course I have, darling, and you?"

Maia nodded.

"Well, now that you two have indulged in that superfluous display of sentimentality, I have two questions for you Maia. Firstly, what are you doing playing a violent sporting match in _public_ and, secondly, have your Transfiguration results improved?"

Maia stood back from her mother and curtseyed to her aunt and uncle in turn. This earned her a nod of grudging approval from her aunt, although Uncle Lucius was too busy ordering Draco not to bring shame on the House of Malfoy and waste his money that he didn't notice Maia at all.

"I know it's in public, aunt, but it's still amateur sport. Surely that makes it a little less unseemly? And my Transfiguration grades are the same, but it is a very high 'E', aunt."

"Even after all the time I tutored you this summer?"

Maia nodded her head, not meeting Cassiopeia's gaze.

"I want you to have received at least three 'O' grade essays by Yule."

"Yes, Aunt Cassiopeia."

Her mother hugged her again and whispered in her ear, "Just try your best, dear, and good luck in the match. Try not to get hurt."

"I'll be fine."

"Yes, well, I'm going to close my eyes. You know how much I hate it." She paused, "Are you sure it's really safe to play in this weather? Why don't they postpone?"

A sharp voice called along the corridor, "That's enough, all of you. In the changing room, now!"

Maia and her team mates broke away from their families. In the changing room, Flint paced up and down.

"Right, I'm not going to lie, this weather isn't ideal." He slammed his fist into the palm of his hand, "But we have to work with what we're given. We're bulkier," he looked at Maia and Draco, "well, we're mostly bulkier than Wood's weedy team, so this won't disadvantage us as much as them. Black, Malfoy, you both better stay on your brooms, or I swear, I'll give you worse injuries for letting us down that you'll get falling."

Neither deigned to respond.

"Right, I doubt Hooch will be able to see us, so play as dirty as you can get away with. We're going to win, or you're all going to pay."

He shouldered his broom and marched out of the changing room. His team-mates followed and Teddy nudged Maia, "Don't worry, that was a friendly pep talk by Flint's standards." He winked before leading the way out to the pitch.

The voice of the commentator, Lee Jordon, filled the air. "AND THAT WAS THE GRYFFINDOR TEAM! THEIR OPPONENTS TODAY ARE SLYTHERIN, LED ONTO THE PITCH NOW BY CAPTAIN AND KEEPER FLINT, FOLLOWED BY BEATERS CRABBE AND GOYLE, CHASERS NOTT, BLACK AND PUCEY AND SEEKER MALFOY. THERE ARE A LOT OF NEW FACES IN THE LINE UP THIS YEAR, SO IT'S SHAPING UP TO BE AN EXCITING MATCH ALREADY. SLYTHERIN ARE THE DEFENDING CAMPIONS, BUT THE GRYFFINDORS LOOK SET TO GIVE THEM A RUN FOR THEIR GOLD!"

The wind was roaring and the rain was so heavy that it clogged up Maia's eyelashes. The world became a mixture of distorted coloured blurs. She didn't hear Hooch's whistle, but suddenly it seemed she was the only one left on the ground, so she kicked off into the air.

She squinted again; she could see the Weasley twins and Flint, but nobody else from her own team.

"IT SEEMS THE CRABBE IS ABLE TO PULL HIS WEIGHT, BUT NOT AIM IT, THAT BLUDGER MISSED BELL BY A MILE, NOT THAT I'M COMPLAINING." Called Jordon.

Maia grimaced, wondering what Flint would do to her if she played poorly. Jordon's voice filled the air over the wind and the rain again.

"BELL HAS THE QUAFFLE, NO WAIT, OH I DIDN'T SEE THAT. STUPID WEATHER. BUT GRYFFINDOR HAS THE QUAFFLE, I THINK."

Cheers filled the stadium.

"FORGET THAT, SLYTHERIN SOMEHOW GOT THE QUAFFLE AND I THINK IT WAS NOTT WHO JUST SCORED FOR SLYTERHIN. 10-0 TO SLYTHERIN."

Merlin, she hadn't even seen Teddy or Adrian yet! Though by the sounds of it most of the spectators couldn't see what was going on through the torrential rain either. She aimed for the Gryffindor end of the pitch and almost collided with Teddy. She pulled herself up to stop and he grinned at her, "Decided to join the party?" he yelled over the storm.

"Sorry! I couldn't even see you!"

"DUCK!" he roared. The both plummeted ten feet and a Bludger zoomed over their heads, heading towards a Gryffindor who Maia thought might have been Potter, but it was hard to tell.

"No worries, I haven't seen Adrian either."

"We'll fly in close quarters and trail the lions. He'll turn up."

"SPINNETT IS IN POSSESSION BUT BLACK AND NOTT ARE FLYING UP BEHIND HER, AND THEY LOOK READY TO ATTACK. WATCH OUT ALICIA!"

Teddy nodded and they shot off towards the centre of the pitch. Teddy flew higher and reached forwards to snatch the Quaffle from the Gryffindor Chaser. He knocked it out her hands and Maia dived, snatching it up. She buried it against her chest and turned quickly, heading for the goal posts. She wouldn't risk passing it in this weather if she could help it. Suddenly, she was flanked on either side. Luckily the blurs were green.

"AND THE SLYTHERIN CHASERS HAVE FORMED AN ARROWHEAD FORMATION, HEADED BY BLACK, I THINK, IT'S HARD TO TELL IN THIS WEATHER, YOU KNOW..."

Maia squinted. "Can you see Wood?" she yelled.

"Nope, I can't see the goal posts yet either." shouted Adrian.

"Just get as close as you can and go for it!" shouted Teddy, "That's what I did!"

Merlin help me, she thought. She broke away from the other two, swerved to the left as fast as she could and hurled to Quaffle to the goalpost as soon as it became clear.

"AND BLACK MAKES IT 20-0 TO SLYTHERIN. I DON'T THINK WOOD EVEN SAW HER COMING, NOT THAT I DIDN'T TRY TO GIVE HIM A HEADS UP!" there was a pause, "YES, PROFESSOR. SORRY, PROFESSOR!"

Maia assumed that the Slytherin side of the stand was cheering, but the wind seemed to have become even louder and she couldn't hear them at all this time.

They ploughed on like that until Wood called half-time when the score was 60-10 to them. When they landed, Adrian ruffled her hair, "Nice move there, little'un." She nodded. She'd not scored another goal, but she'd managed to stay in formation and give them advance warning about an oncoming Bludger a few moments previously. Still, it was hard work playing Quidditch in this weather. And it wasn't as if she was used to hard work. They had trained in bad weather, of course, but it had been nothing compared to this.

They ran under cover and Flint was grinning. "I think the game's in the bag." He said, rubbing his hands. "Potter's got himself a rouge Bludger, he'll need a miracle to catch the Snitch now. Malfoy, go out there and get it as fast as you can so we can end this. I'll get a crate of Honeydukes chocolate for whoever managed to get to that Bludger, do any of you know who it was?"

They all looked at each other and shook their heads.

"Well, I'll ask around in the Common Room later, come on, out we go." He pushed them back out into the rain and they kicked off. Gryffindor seemed to be in better form after the time out, and put two goals past Flint in quick succession.

"AND THAT WAS A FANTASTIC GOAL FROM ANGELINA JOHNSON. I'VE BEEN TELLING HER THESE THINGS FOR YEARS, BUT SHE STILL WON'T GO OUT WITH ME." Once again, there was a pause in Jordon's commentary, followed by a mumbled but still very audible, "YES PROFESSOR, SORRY PROFFESOR."

"Come on, it's time to play dirty!" called Teddy. Adrian and Maia flew after him as he zoomed towards a Gryffindor Chaser, making as though he was going to break her nose. He swerved away at the last moment but the girl dropped the Quaffle. Adrian snatched it up and started to zig-zag towards the Gryffindor goal posts. Teddy trailed him from above and Maia from below.

A red-headed Weseal appeared out of nowhere and Adrian rolled to avoid a collision, he dropped the Quaffle and Maia headed into a dive, cutting off a Gryffindor Chaser and snatching it up. She hurled it at Wood, who swerved to block but missed by the tips of his fingers. He sent her a furious glare as she punched the air with her fist and the Slytherin stands seemed to move as they jumped and cheered, but once again, it was hard to tell.

"SO, BLACK SCORES AND MAKES IT 70-30 to SLYTHERIN. IT'S NOT LOOKING GOOD FOR THE LIONS, BUT I HAVE A FEELING THAT WAS MORE LUCK THAN JUDGEMENT ON BLACK'S PART."

Maia went back to join Teddy and Adrian, trying to ignore her aching muscles and the urge to curse Johnson. Aunt Cassiopeia _had_ taught her some good ones over the summer.

Luckily, Adrian managed to put another Quaffle past Wood and raise Slytherin's score by a further ten points. It was enough to keep her going, despite her exhaustion. Maia was starting to lag behind the two larger boys slightly. She steeled herself. She was a Black, for Salazar's sake! She never showed weakness, even when she had to admit that she felt it!

Suddenly, the Quaffle was heading towards her, passed by Teddy, and she was completely unprepared. She was out of line and shot forwards to reach it, fumbling the catch and only grasping it at the very last second.

In her need to not mess-up the catch, she completely missed the Bludger heading straight for her. It collided with her ankle and she howled in pain, sliding under her broom and losing the Quaffle. Teddy and Adrian flew towards her, the latter diving to retrieve the Quaffle, snatching it out of the hands of one of the Gryffindors.

Teddy reached across and pulled her upright. "You good?"

She nodded, not trusting herself to open her mouth without wailing like a small child, and turned to fly after Adrian. She'd lost sight of him.

"Can you see him?" shouted Teddy.

She signalled no with her hand when Lee Jordon announced, "AND PUCEY SCORES AGAIN. IT's 90-30 TO SLYTHERIN!"

Suddenly, three quarters of the stands were on their feet. Maia could hear their shouting despite the gale force winds. "AND POTTER'S CAUGHT THE SNITCH! I DON'T BELIEVE IT, HE'S DONE IT AGAIN! IT'S ALL OVER AND THE FINAL SCORE IS 180-90 TO GRYFFINDOR!"

The three Slytherin Chasers, who'd regrouped at the last moment, looked at each other in horror. They slowly sunk to the ground, the last of their team to get off their brooms. Flint was already dragging Draco off towards the Changing Rooms – by the ear it appeared – and was red in the face from shouting.

Teddy and Adrian helped her down, and put one of her arms over each of their shoulders. They supported her weight as she hobbled back towards the changing room. Adrian was sporting the beginnings of a black eye after his final tackle with the Gryffindor Chaser, and Teddy was so covered in mud it was hard to imagine his robes ever being emerald green again.

When they made it to the changing room, Gregory and Vincent had retreated to the furthest corner and were rubbing their sore, aching muscles wearily. They avoided looking at the centre of the room where Draco was actually cowering beneath Flint's wrath.

"YOU STUPID SON OF A DUGBOG! PLEASE, YOU BLITHERING IDIOT, EXPLAIN TO ME HOW YOU FAILED TO SEE THE SNITCH WHEN IT WAS IN FRONT OF YOUR FACE?"

The two boys helped to lower Maia onto a bench. They sat down next to her warily.

"AND DON'T THINK I DIDN'T SEE YOU WASTING MOST OF THE FIRST HALF FOLLOWING HIM. YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR THE DAMN THING YOURSELF! BUT WHAT DID YOU DO? WASTE HALF THE GAME TRYING TO COME UP WITH CLEVER INSULTS IN THAT THICK HEAD OF YOURS! WE SHOULD HAVE WON! I ORDERED YOU TO WIN, MALFOY!"

"As did I." Said a cold, drawling voice from the doorway to the changing room. Lucius Malfoy strode in, his silver-topped cane rapping on the cold floor with each step. Beneath his mud-splattered face, Draco paled. "If you should be so kind, Master Flint, I should like to have a word with my son." He turned on his heel and walked out of the room, followed slowly by Draco.

Now that he had nobody to shout at, Marcus Flint seemed to deflate. His shoulders sagged and his face fell as the full horror of their loss set in.

"Please excuse me while I have a shower. If I take a long time, it's because I'm trying to drown myself in there. Salazar, what did I do to deserve this?" He slumped off towards the shower rooms.

Suddenly, Daniel Stretton, Caleb Parkin and Florian Burke ran into the changing room.

"Have you heard?" they gasped simultaneously, doubled over and clutching their sides.

"What should I have heard?" said Flint.

"And have none of you heard of elegant behaviour?" snapped Maia. She was wet, tired, cold, hungry and her foot was sending regular stabbing pains up her leg. She was muddy and soaked to the skin. These were not things that she was accustomed to. It was safe to say that, by this point, she was in a foul mood.

"Potter got hit by that Bludger before he caught the Snitch-" Said Florian.

"-And Lockhart tired to fix it-" said Daniel.

"-But he messed up and Vanished all the bones in Potter's arms!"

The pain in Maia's leg suddenly felt like a mild graze. It was nothing compared to re-growing bones. Her only sorrow was that she'd not been there to witness Lockhart's latest display of spectacular incompetence.

Flint brightened and went off to the showers smiling, while the three boys were swept aside as Caroline ran into the Changing Rooms, her face wet with tears, as she pulled Maia into a fierce hug.

"Oh thank God! I thought you were going to fall! I thought I'd lost you! Are you ok? Are you hurt?" She pulled back to look at her, "You're like ice!" She said hugging her again.

She then pulled back and recognised Teddy from her omnioculars. She hugged him tightly as well, "Oh, but you saved her! Thank you! Thank you so much!"

When she finally pulled away Teddy's face was an impressive scarlet colour.

"I thought you were going to close your eyes?" said Maia.

Caroline shook her head, "I was so nervous that I couldn't look away."

Cassiopeia was stood a few feet back, looking on disdainfully. "Are you quite finished with your ridiculously emotional display, Caroline? I'm sure young Masters Nott and Pucey would like to escape to their own families."

They both bowed deeply to Cassiopeia and Caroline, before making their exit. Half of Adrian's face was swollen from the bruise already and Teddy's blush hadn't faded in the slightest. Muggles were definitely much more emotional than they were, he thought, but it was rather sweet and endearing. Or perhaps that was just what the elderly Mrs. Black was like?

Now that they were alone (Gregory and Vincent had escaped as quickly as they feasibly could) Cassiopeia pulled out her wand and waved it at Maia's ankle.

"Satisfactory?"

The pain was completely gone.

"Yes, thank you, aunt."

Cassiopeia nodded stiffly. "Well, I suppose we should go and collect Lucius and return home. Are you quite finished, Caroline?"

Caroline, who had been hugging Maia again and detailing how much she missed her and couldn't wait for her to be home for the Christmas holidays, nodded reluctantly and stood up.

"Yes, I suppose you're right, Cassiopeia."

After one last hug, Maia was left alone to clean herself up. She had never been so filthy, tired or sore in her entire life.

But scoring right underneath Wood's nose made the whole thing worth it...

...

The next morning was a Sunday and Maia made her way down to breakfast, still tired from the day before.

She found the Great Hall buzzing with the news.

Colin Creevey was Petrified in the Hospital Wing.

...

Maia excused herself from the dining table.

She started to walk towards the library.

The words of Lupin's letter echoed around her head.

Parkinson's taunts from the year before wouldn't leave her alone.

The image of Daniel Stretton seemed to follow her.

This wasn't funny anymore.

It wasn't a joke.

It didn't matter that she didn't like Granger.

She wanted her brains.

And none of the others would risk even looking. None of them would want to. They didn't get involved in things like this...

But what was she thinking, what was she doing, taking this course of action?

Surely it wasn't worth the risk?

Surely she was behaving like a stupid Gryffindor?

Surely there was no real danger, at least not to herself?

She was the Heir to the House of Black.

Her blood and her money and her family would keep her safe.

Surely?

Perhaps she would turn round?

But then she walked straight into Hermione Granger, and they both tumbled to the floor.

Again.

...

**Thank you for all the reviews and comments from the last chapter. I really appreciated them. Also, good luck to everyone for the Olympics! (I thought that the Queen was **_**fantastic**_**!) : ) **


	46. Deja Vu

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Forty Six_ Deja Vu _

Maia picked herself up off the floor and brushed down her robes.

"Are you quite alright?" She asked, as Granger struggled back to her feet, held down by her weighty bag which was over-flowing with books.

"Oh, yes thank you, I'm fine."

They stood facing each other. The corridor was empty as most of the students were still gossiping and eating their breakfast.

Hermione broke the silence first, "Have you heard about Colin?"

"Creevey?"

"Yes."

"Then yes, I've heard."

"I can't believe it, it's so horrible."

Maia nodded in agreement, "Even if this is a prank, it's gone too far."

Hermione wrung her hands, "I've been researching in the library, I've been trying to work out what spell could do such a thing. The professors aren't telling us anything really, and I just don't like not knowing."

"Neither do I. One should always know one's enemy, that's what my Aunt Cassiopeia says."

They both opened their mouths to say something at the same time, and then paused together as well. Once again, Hermione broke the silence first. "How is your aunt? I hope that she isn't too... upset."

That was not what Maia had expected. She had thought that, once more, they would revert to their argument from first year. She did not like to admit it, but she was rather taken aback by Granger's sudden display of good breeding. "She is coping admirably, as ever."

Hermione nodded. "And I agree with her, on this point. We should know what we're up against." Hermione paused, "I was about to go back to the library, and continue my research. If you like, you could join me. We could research so much faster together."

A knot formed in Maia's stomach, but wasn't this what she wanted? To try and work out what was going on? And with Granger, the smartest witch in their year? How could there be a more appropriate ally in such an endeavour?

But then, Draco would not like it if she were to spend time with one of the 'Golden Trio'. He had such a feud with Potter. And she wouldn't like to be linked to the Weasel herself. The others might see it as some kind of betrayal, as they had stood by her when Granger had walked away. She didn't want to risk their disapproval, when they had been so very good to her, for so many years, and especially recently.

And yet, there was no question of them wanting to research recent events. Whoever was doing this claimed to be doing it on behalf of Slytherin. They probably _were_ a Slytherin. It would be very bad if they were found to be working against them, especially when most of their families put so much stock by blood purity. Even if their families did not condone these attacks (even Uncle Lucius, who had hinted something may occur to Draco, would not condone this level of violence in a school) they would not want their offspring linked to liberal, muggle-loving ideas.

And then she realised that Hermione was still waiting for an answer.

Maia swallowed, "I am willing to help you, but I would appreciate it, if we could be discreet."

Hermione adjusted her bag on her shoulder and frowned, "Why? Do you not want to be seen with me?"

"Not for the reasons you're thinking, not because you're a muggleborn. Whoever is doing this is claiming, at least, to be a Slytherin. Being in Slytherin might be keeping me safe at the moment, and I don't want to lose that."

Hermione nodded, "Of course, that makes sense."

They turned and made their way into the library together. Just as they made their way through the door, Hermione turned back to Maia. "Isn't it odd, it's like we're meeting all over again? And both times we've met, we've sent each other flying all over the floor?"

...

Draco excused himself from the Gobstone's match Blaise and Tracey were arranging in the Common Room. Making his way up the stairs to his dorm room, he briefly considered joining Maia in the library. But at this moment, he was troubled, and he had no intention of burdening her.

How many people had he told he would look after her?

He sighed and picked up the book on his bedside table, _The Politics of Blood _by Edgar Edgeworth. His father had given it to him before he left for Hogwarts, and told him that it was about time he began to learn the political ropes. There was a heavy tome at the bottom of the trunk on magical law which he was expected to memorise as well. He knew for a fact Aunt Cassiopeia hadn't started on this with Maia yet, although to be fair, perhaps she had intended to do so, and the events of the summer had led her to postpone them.

Or perhaps his father was just impossible to please.

He shuddered as he recalled their 'conversation' following the Quidditch match yesterday.

Bloody Potter. But the damn Golden Boy _would _catch the Snitch with a broken arm.

And _he_, Draco Malfoy, had only ever wanted to play Keeper. Was it really so much to ask?

He shook his head and closed the book, tracing the embossed words of the front cover.

_Blood_

What on earth was going on in Hogwarts?

Why would his father drop such a hint, and then refuse to say another word on the matter?

All he knew was that the Chamber of Secrets had been opened before, and that last time, a mudblood had died.

But who, exactly, counted as a mudblood?

Who was in danger?

Granger and the rest of them _could_ die, for all he cared.

But Maia?

Tracey?

Daniel?

With a sudden intake of breath, he turned back to the last page he had marked.

He had sworn to his father that he would not get involved.

And that was the end of the matter.

...

The next evening, as the storm continued to rage around the castle, and as Madam Pince yelled at first years for talking in the library, Hermione Granger and Maia Black began their research in earnest.

"So, before we begin, I think that we should clarify our research our parameters. We have a lot of material to cover, and I think that this would help to refine our reading and focus." Hermione said all this very quickly, while organising the large piles of books on the desk in front of them into numerous piles.

"I thought that we had already established our research parameters?" Said Maia, finishing off the braid in her hair with an emerald ribbon. Daphne and Tracey had been encouraging her to make more of an effort, and she had relented, supposing that it would please Aunt Cassiopeia is she could mimic some of Daphne's... polish. Not that she ever would really manage it, not in the same way Daphne did. She was presentable, with elegant manners and typical Black looks; which were tolerably pretty but more haughty than anything else. She did not have Daphne's classical beauty and poise.

"I know, I just want to clarify them."

Maia arched an eyebrow, "Are you trying to imply that I'm somehow incapable of retaining pre-agreed information?"

Hermione continued to shuffle the books, "Oh, of course not. I'm just trying to be businesslike."

"Excuse me if I abstain from believing you."

Hermione straightened up with her hands on her hips, "If you're just here to aggravate me, Black, I'll manage perfectly fine on my own. Feel free to leave."

"I can conduct my own research anyway, Granger."

"It'll take twice as long without me."

"_You'll_ take twice as long without _me_."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "For goodness sake, Black. I only wanted to make sure you remembered. Can't we just negotiate some kind of truce, or else we really will be better off working on our own."

Maia paused, "I'm willing to negotiate a truce."

"Good."

"So, Granger, what are your terms?"

Hermione paused and looked down the list of books, before rolling her eyes as if this conversation required far too much effort, "You aren't allowed to insult myself, my blood status, my friends or my House."

"Very well, you aren't allowed to insult myself, my blood status, my friends, or my House, including the House of Black."

"And you aren't allowed to be insubordinate."

"You aren't allowed to try and take control."

"You have to be polite at all times."

"You have to do the same."

"Agreed."

"Agreed."

Maia smirked, "So, Granger, can you remember our pre-agreed research parameters?"

Hermione glared and grit her teeth, "Black-"

Maia smiled sweetly, "I'm just being polite."

Suddenly, Hermione laughed. "No, you're trying to wind me up and appear polite at the same time, and I'm not going to fall for it. I want to achieve something during this session. The parameters of our research are that we are searching for a spell, a magical creature, or an object which can Petrify both humans and mammals and which can be transported around a large and busy castle undetected." She paused and took a deep breath, "This pile of books refers to possible concealment techniques, this one to creatures, this one to spell and the last one to objects. I shall be starting on spells."

Maia inclined her head, "And I shall be starting on objects. All the other books shall remain here for possible cross reference."

They then researched for the next four hours in diligent silence.

...

The next day, a sign appeared on the notice board in the Slytherin Common Room. The Duelling Club was to be resurrected.

"And about time too." Said Bertram Nott. The Duelling Club had been the highlight of his second year, one of the few years in which the students had had a half-way competent DADA teacher. The fortunes of the Club rose and fell in accordance with the mediocrity of their teachers.

"Are you quite sure about that?" Said Queenie sarcastically.

"Yes, why?"

"Because who do you think is going to run it?"

Bertram's face fell and he shook his head, "I should have transferred to Durmstrang when father offered me the chance."

The second years, who had been clustered nearby listening to the conversation, walked away and took their usual spot by the fire.

Tracey was the first to laugh, "Perhaps we should go, just for the comedy value?"

Daphne started to run her hands through her hair a little protectively, "What if it turns into another Cornish Pixie Fiasco? I had to _cut_ some of the knots out!"

Tracey patted her hand sympathetically, "We'd maintain a safe distance near to an exit, of course."

Draco lent back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach, "If I want to duel someone, I won't want advice from Lockhart. And I don't want to watch him butcher the noble art of duelling."

Maia yawned, "I agree with Tracey, I think it would be funny."

"Maia, why are you so tired recently? Are you sure you're sleeping well?" Asked Blaise, frowning.

She nodded, she was sleeping like the proverbial log. "I'm just tired, Flint's made the practices tougher than ever, and I've got homework on top of that as well. It's keeping me busy though, and keeping my mind off things."

And it was true, with all the time she spent flying, studying and researching, she had no time at all to think about herself, or think about being sad. Each day was getting easier than the last. She now had the energy to walk to class as haughtily as she ought to, the inclination to make snide remarks to the Weasel and the positivity to admit that she was fairly happy.

Draco frowned as well though, "Why are you spending so much time in the library?"

Her expression faltered for a moment. She was not in the habit of lying to her friends, and especially not to Draco. She knew he deserved better than lies, but she also knew he wouldn't want to know the truth. She smirked, "Partly because Aunt Cassiopeia wants me to get 3 'O' grade essays in Transfiguration before Yule, and partly because if I do better than Granger in everything else, it'll annoy her more than any prank we could ever pull."

Draco smiled, "Perhaps we should prank them anyway." He sighed wistfully and dramatically, "It's been so long..."

"You conduct your scheme, and I'll conduct mine." She said. Nowhere in her truce with Granger did she say that she'd give her advance warning of any of Draco's or the other's anti-Golden Trio schemes.

...

The weekend was drawing nearer, and Maia and Hermione had spent every spare hour in the library, researching whatever they could find that they thought would help them. During the past week, they had – to their mutual surprise – found that they made a rather good team. Hermione was very good at seeing the big picture, and could focus on and retain a large amount of information at once. Maia, on the other hand, could happily read into the smallest of details to find out exactly what she wanted.

Maia lent back in her chair and rubbed the small of her back, "My bones hurt!" she said, looking around to make sure Madam Pince wasn't nearby.

"That's because you sit up so straight all the time. It wouldn't be so bad if you relaxed once in a while."

"Aunt Cassiopeia used to hit us round the head with the back of her wand if we slouched, and if that didn't stop us, she'd hit us with a stinging hex until we did. It comes to you naturally after a while under that regime."

"She sounds delightful."

"Remember our truce."

Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes, "I'm sure you do find her delightful."

"I do." Said Maia, giving Hermione a rare, genuine smile.

Hermione put down her quill and rubbed her sore fingers. "I miss pens!"

"What's a pen?"

"It's something muggles use to write with, it's much more comfortable than a quill."

Maia nodded, absorbing the information. She had not relinquished her desire to take Muggle Studies as an OWL, even if it did incur Aunt Cassiopeia's wrath.

"Have you told Weasel-ly," she corrected her near-faux pas, "and Potter that you're researching all of this with me?"

She shook her head, "They know I'm looking into it, but not that I'm with you. They're concentrating on working out who could be behind all the attacks. Have you told Malfoy and the others that you're with me?"

She shook her head, and changed the rather delicate subject, "Do they have any ideas? I'm going to presume that Potter isn't behind them." She said with a smirk. Like most of Slytherin, she found the idea that the 'ultimate Gryffindor Golden Boy' wanted to link himself to Salazar Slytherin highly implausible.

Hermione looked uncomfortable, "Not really."

Maia nodded, noting Hermione's pained expression and deciding, like a true Slytherin, to save the information to use at a later date.

Hermione sighed and pushed her bushy hair out of her face, "I just wish we could do something to stop the rumours about Harry. They're just so ludicrous! There's nothing that links the two of them in anyway. But how can we prove that he's not Slytherin's Heir? I mean, Slytherin was alive a thousand years ago, so for all we know, he could be descended from him!"

Maia thought the urge to double over with laughter, "Granger, are you telling me that Weasley, Weasley the pureblood, is completely unfamiliar with even the most basic of wizarding genealogy?"

Hermione's eyebrows knotted together, "I thought we won't going to insult each other's friends."

"Well, perhaps, but surely Weasley must know that the basic outline of the Potter family?"

Hermione's eyebrows moved ever closer, "He didn't mention anything."

Maia rolled her eyes to the heavens, "I suppose he is a _Weasley_-"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" snapped Hermione.

"Just that his family don't hold the old traditions in the same way that my family, for instance, do."

"And is that a bad thing?"

Resisting the urge to remind Granger of the wording of their truce, she simply said, "It's the choice of his family. However, it does mean that he cannot, while I can, inform you that it is highly unlikely that Harry is a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin."

"How do you know this?"

"Because my Aunt Cassiopeia has had be memorise my own family tree, the family trees for all the other major pureblood families going back four hundred years, and all other pertinent genealogical information, _such as who is descended from important magical figures like the founders of Hogwarts._"

Hermione folded her book closed in front of her, "I think you must have had a very... unique upbringing."

Maia frowned, "It was nothing out of the ordinary. You could ask this question of most people raised in a pureblood family and they would give you the same answer. Ernie can recite the last nine generations of his family whilst standing on his head. I know because I was there. He did it in Aunt Cassiopeia's Herbology garden one lunchtime when I was eight. Besides, I thought muggles took as much interest in this as we do, anyway?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Well, my mother can trace her family tree back to the fourteenth century, and she's a muggle."

"Does she have a particular interest in genealogy?"

"No, but she is a member of the aristocracy."

Hermione nodded weakly, "Very well, could you please tell me how you know that Harry is not a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin?"

Maia took a deep breath, "Well, firstly, we can discount his mother's family entirely as she came from a muggle background. Secondly, the Potter family is famous for being a direct descendant of Godric Gryffidor. Thirdly, Potter is related to me through his great grandmother Lucretia Black. She married Ignatius Prewett, and their daughter Iris Prewett married into the House of Potter and was the mother of James Potter-"

"-Harry's father!-"

"-Good, you're keeping up. And, while the Black family _is_ distantly related to Salazar Slytherin as his youngest sister, Sunniva Slytherin, married the then-Heir to the House of Black, Serpens Pictor Black, that's our only claim to kinship. In addition, the Prewett family has, as far as I am aware because Aunt Cassiopeia never thought a great deal of the Prewett's and neglected them in our genealogy lessons somewhat, no known relationship to Salazar Slytherin. She always said she disapproved of Lucretia's marriage. She said the Prewetts were only one step up from the Weasleys. Anyway, although that doesn't discount _all_ of Harry's family history, it's certainly a fairly good comeback to anyone who claims that he's a _direct_ descendant and therefore the Heir."

Hermione frowned, "So he still might be related to Slytherin?"

"Perhaps through one of his other maternal lines, it's only my own family tree that I've memorised in full, after all. I can't tell you from memory, I'm afraid. It wouldn't be _too_ difficult to trace his lineage though. All decent magical families keep very detailed records of their blood lines."

Hermione pursed her lips, "I don't think it will make much difference if we said any of that. People are mainly claiming that he's doing it because of his connection to You-Know-Who, and the fact that he's always in the wrong place at the wrong time. They'll believe whatever makes the best gossip." She said, finishing cynically.

Maia nodded sagely, "Well, you could put the Gryffindor bit about."

Hermione smiled, "If nothing else, I think he'd like to hear it. Have you told him that you're related?"

In was Maia's turn to frown as she paused to work out the relationship, "We're second cousins, three times removed." She said with an air of finality, "And it I highly doubt he'd be pleased with the knowledge if he isn't already aware of it. Let's not pretend that he particularly likes me." She finished up in a tone which indicated that Potter's attitude was his loss, not hers.

Hermione forced a smile.

Suddenly, her eyes widened and her eyes fell onto the serpent of the front of Maia's robes, "_The Heir to Slytherin..."_ she whispered, and frantically began to search through the piles of books.

"Granger?"

She looked up, "The legend refers to the _monster_ within."

Suddenly, it clicked in Maia's brain as well, "The monster of Slytherin..." She followed Hermione's gaze, "The symbol of Slytherin... Serpents. How could we have missed that?"

Hermione beamed, "It's always the way."

Maia laughed, remembering the Transfiguration homework Hermione had helped her with. "It always is. And it removes the issue that all of the spells we've seen are way beyond OWL, and often NEWT, level."

Hermione pushed a pile of books towards Maia, her eyes bright, "Here, start looking at these."

...

**Sorry for the long A/N but it's occurred to me to explain why Harry wasn't 'rescued' from the Dursleys in the same way that Maia was 'rescued' from Marius and Caroline. Maia's own relationship to the House of Black is much closer, and Cassiopeia only initially showed interest in her because of her 'anti-muggle' actions with the burning hex. The close relationship they have didn't start until Cassiopeia discovered that Maia was actually a pureblood. Harry, on the other hand, is definitely only a half blood, tainted with muggle, Prewett and Potter blood who has never come to Cassiopeia's notice. I imagine the Weasleys, the Prewetts and the Potters to have been the 'scandalous blood traitor' families, so she's always ignored him, presuming he's happy with the Dursleys. After all, Harry's relationship with the Dursleys isn't widely known.**


	47. The Stain of Dishonour

**I do not own Harry Potter**

**Happy reading!**

Chapter Forty Seven_ The Stain of Dishonour_

In any other circumstances, it would have been a bad political move. Times of peace, when the Dark Lord was weak, were not the times in which people generally put blood purist proposals before the Board of Governors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Lucius Malfoy sighed.

Really, it hadn't been _that_ extreme a proposal. He re-read the document he still held in his hand. Mudblood brats would be informed of their heritage at least six months prior to the starting date of the of their first year, and between that time would be expected to study for an entrance exam, which would cover major aspects of life in wizarding Britain, including culture and customs, and an overview of wizarding history. Those that passed would be allowed to progress to Hogwarts, those that failed would have their place deferred for a year and would then re-sit the exam. Students could not take up their place until they had passed.

Of course, the proposal had been shouted down by bleeding-heart liberals, led by that mudblood-loving fool Dumbledore, who insisted that the handbook issued to each 'muggleborn' student was sufficient for their understanding of the magical world.

Cassiopeia, of course, had come to his defence. She had even proposed the option of providing those who failed with a year-long place at an interim school in order to tutor them to the correct level.

Dumbledore had inferred that such an institution would be made a mockery of, and the students would suffer there more than they would benefit.

And then Lucius had had to stop her cursing him.

He took a deep breath on his cigar and watched the smoke drift out in front of him. He leant back in his chair and kicked his feet out in front of him. If he had genuinely wanted the proposal to go through, then it would have been a bad meeting. Of course, he did think it was a good idea and he had hoped that it would be passed anyway.

But the dramatic response and total failure was, perhaps, in his favour.

He had submitted the proposal to cover his bases.

Draco was a loose end. He'd given the boy information and now Draco was writing to him, wanting to know about the Chamber of Secrets, wanting to know what he knew, wanting to know what was going on. He'd answered the boy as reasonably as he could, but he could not allow it to appear as if his warning to Draco at the beginning of September referred to these attacks. While there may be a connection, the truth was not what mattered. The appearance of truth was always more important.

And now, he could claim that he had referred to his proposal.

Of course, it would not hold up to Veriterserum, but it was hardly going to come to that. He was not directly implicated and had enough power that he was not likely to come under suspicion any time soon. He was an accomplished enough occulums that he could cover his mind should anyone try and pry.

All in all, Lucius Malfoy was very pleased with himself.

...

In the end, all the Slytherin second years except from Daphne decided to attend the Duelling Club. Maia and Draco were almost late, having had Quidditch practice that night, but Flint let them all out early. As Flint had put it, he didn't want to miss the show anymore than they did.

And oh, what a show it had been.

The Slytherins didn't have a particularly close relationship with their Head of House, Professor Snape. Unlike Professor Sprout, he did not make a point of having tea and biscuits with each year group on a termly basis.

However, they all had a great deal of respect for him as a wizard, and were now looking forward to watching him destroy Lockhart.

All the Slytherin Qudditch team wore identical grins as Lockhart was sent flying across the room. A few even clapped when he smashed – rather painfully – into the opposite wall.

Maia and Draco looked over to their friends on the other side of the room to see that they too were smiling from ear to ear. Teddy leant across to the rest of the team, "Who wants to chip in and send Snape flowers as a thank you?"

Lockhart seemed to decide that he didn't want to be publically humiliated anymore, and that the students should pair up and start attacking each other instead. Of course, they were only meant to 'disarm' each other.

Flint's eyes flashed menacingly, "I'm off to find Wood. I want revenge."

With that, he squared his shoulders and marched away.

Adrian rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head, "Lockhart is an innocent, delicate soul, isn't he?"

"Did he really think we wouldn't all use this as an excuse to have the duels we aren't normally allowed?" Said Teddy.

"And on that note," said Draco, catching on, "I'm off to find Potter."

Draco left with his wand ready in his hand and Maia saw him be pushed towards Potter by Professor Snape, whose face was impassive but whose eyes betrayed the fact that this was one of the happiest moments in his life.

Maia turned to Teddy and Adrian, "So which of you gentlemen would like the pleasure of duelling me, unless you have scores and feuds of your own to settle?"

However, both Teddy and Adrian were not looking at Maia, but above her head. She turned as well to see Professor Snape standing behind her.

"Good evening, Professor." They said warily in unison. Professor Snape did not normally approach students, least of all his own.

"Master Pucey, there is a group of third year Hufflepuffs in the far corner who disrupted my class this morning. Perhaps you might like to practice your technique on them? And Master Nott, if you look to your left, there is an insufferably dense Gryffindor by the name of McLaggen. I would happily turn a blind eye if you wished to try out some of the curses which made your great grandfather one of Grindelwald's most feared supporters." The two boys took the hint and left quickly, trying not to look too pleased. "And Miss. Black, I do not wish to deprive you of a partner. You're esteemed aunt would be most displeased. Please, follow me."

Maia walked just behind Professor Snape as the crowd parted in front of him. When he stopped, she looked round to see Draco and Potter glaring fiercely at each other, while Granger tried to keep as much distance between herself and Bulstrode as possible.

For one truly joyous moment, Maia thought that she was about to be offered the chance to attack the Weasel.

Then Snape stepped back and gestured to a dark-haired, burly boy in front of him. "Finnegan, I believe that your health would be in serious danger should you attempt to duel Weasley with that excuse for a wand. Perhaps you and Miss. Black would be better matched?"

He turned to leave, but not before bending over and whispering in Maia's ear, "Finnegan has blown up three cauldrons this year to date. Please feel free to do your worst."

This was the impudent boy who had dared to wink at her!

She smiled sweetly, "My pleasure, sir."

...

Cadet Tonks sat upright in her chair. She'd got here early and although most of the rows were now full, the last of her fellow recruits were still filing in. Still, at least they now got to sit in chairs. She remembered when she'd first finished her basic training – thank Merlin – and chairs still felt like a luxury. After three months of standing to attention, running laps, and haven her spirit and self-esteem repeatedly crushed in order to weed out the weak, she was very grateful to finally have a chair.

Then she'd spent a further three months undergoing initial training alongside Hit Witches and Wizards. Dear Helga, she thought that she's never pass the stealth and detection module.

Then she'd spent three months in admin. Yep, she'd definitely lucked out on her first shadow placement. But they were all being reassigned today and she'd made it this far. She squared her jaw and her hair turned from bubblegum pink to a serious brown colour. She would pass this.

A hush filled the conference room as the Head of the Auror Department, a tall and stern-faced witch in her mid-forties called Constance Kirkwood, strode into the room. She stood on the raised platform before them and paced up and down, with her hands clasped behind her back. She did not bother to look at them. She looked so serious that Tonks wanted to smile, but after all that time in training she knew better. She knew when she had to put on a 'serious face'.

It didn't stop her smiling on the inside though. Many of her colleagues were insufferably 'professional'. But as far as she was concerned, if you stopped living yourself, then you had nothing left worth fighting for. And if you had nothing to fight for, nothing to hold on to, then when the going really got tough, you had nothing to keep you going.

"You people sitting here may think that you're the lucky ones. You're the ones who didn't wimp out during basic training."

She paused and turned, for the first time, to glare at them.

"But so many wimp out in total, that we only recruit on a three-year rota. At the beginning of your basic training, there were sixty of you. When you left, there were fifty four. A further six months down the line and now there are only thirty one. So don't think that I'm going to bother learning your names yet. You've stuck this out for nine months. Well done." She said sarcastically and Tonks felt her stomach tighten.

"That means you've only got another two years and three months before you're qualified. If you think you're doing well, think again, because you haven't even started yet."

She snapped her fingers and an assistant rushed forward with a piece of paper.

"You will each be assigned to a fully qualified Auror for the next six months. They will write weekly reports on your performance. They will not mollycoddle you. They will not spare you your feelings. They will not hold your hand. If you mess up, they will tell you. If you do something stupid, they will tell you. And if they think you aren't up to scratch, we will be waving you bye bye. The safety of wizarding Britain may one day depend upon what we do here, so we only take the best. When your name and the name of your supervisor are called, you will remain seated. When I have dismissed you, you will report directly to them. Any questions?"

If there were any questions, nobody dared to ask them.

Kirkwood began reading from the list, it took a while, but she was finally nearing the end...

"Tonks, Nymphadora."

Tonks sat up a little straighter again, trying not to grimace at her name.

"You are assigned to Senior Auror Alastor Moody."

...

Now they were alone, Finnegan's smile grew wider. "Evening, Black."

"I don't believe we're supposed to be exchanging pleasantries, Finnegan. I certainly have none to share with you."

Although it was hard to believe, his grin managed to get wider. "As y' wish." He said.

Maia clicked her tongue at his infuriating manner, his scruffy attire and his complete lack of proper pride. This was a duel, not a joke. And he had winked at her! How dare he? Did he think she was some sort of commoner who thought such habits and mannerisms _weren't_ indicative of ill-breeding and coarseness of the worst kind?

Still smiling, he bowed. She fixed him with a glare and sank into a curtsey.

She held her wand aloft quickly, "Expellimarmus!" she shouted. There was a flash of light, but Finnegan dodged out of the way. He was _still _smiling.

"Expellimarmus!" she shouted again, aiming directly for him. Once again, he jumped out of the way at the last minute. And then he winked, _again_!

It was his turn to wave his wand, but rather than dodge out of the way like a mere _muggle_, Maia cast a shield charm, as her aunt had taught her over the summer.

Maia smirked when she saw the surprised look on Finnegan's face, but then found herself doubled over with laughter. She clutched her sides, struggling to breathe. And Finnegan was standing in front of her, grinning from ear to ear.

"I knew I'd get a smile out of y' eventually."

And he was twirling _her_ wand in _his _hand!

He'd just jumped around her shield charm, hit her in the back with one of the cheering charms Flitwick had been teaching the second years, and taken her wand from her hand while she was distracted!

She was _furious_!

Finnegan waved his own wand and the spell ended. She straightened up and walked right up to him, nose to nose, snatched her wand from his hand, and snarled, "I will make you _pay_, Finnegan."

Finnegan scratched his head then held up his lands, still laughing, "Calm down, Black. Y' don't need to get t' violent about it."

She was about to hiss out another response, when a series of loud bangs filled the air, and all the students broke apart from each other. Well, all the students apart from Bulstrode and Granger. The latter had the former in a headlock.

Maia threw Finnegan one last disgusted look, before grinning herself. Professor Snape pulled Draco and Potter on the stage, to set up a duel between them.

And then, before they knew it, a giant snake filled most of the stage. It started to slither towards Finch-Fletchley when Potter rushed out towards it and started to hiss.

Maia turned towards Finnegan, not because she had any desire to associate with him, but because she wanted to know she wasn't hearing things. Judging by the look on his face, she wasn't.

_Potter was a Parselmouth_.

...


	48. As Black As Night

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Forty Eight_ As Black as Night_

The next morning was a Wednesday. Maia rose early and sent a very long, very distressed letter to her Aunt Cassiopeia begging for duelling lessons. She dreaded her aunt's response to her abject failure, but hoped she'd conveyed the depth of her shame with enough force that she wouldn't receive a Howler.

She could not believe that she had been beaten in anything by someone like _Finnegan_. Not that she knew a great deal about him, as he was _hardly_ the type of person she would associate with, but that in itself was very telling.

If he was not good enough to associate with her, then he was most certainly not good enough to beat her in a duel.

And yet he had.

When she joined the others in the Great Hall, she found that the whole school was buzzing with the revelation of Potter's ability. She herself didn't know what to make of it. It was the case with most of Slytherin, in fact. They were all speechless. Well, all of them except for Draco. He took a deep breath and launched into another rant when Daphne slammed her hand down on the table.

"Oh be quiet, Draco!" She snapped, "I don't care if Potter can talk to snakes or flobberworms. I'm expecting this month's edition of _Witch's Vogue_ and I highly doubt the owl has made it through this blizzard and I _need_ to know what _Twilfitt and Tattings_ put on the Paris runway!"

They were all stunned to silence under her glare, and quickly made their way to double Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws. The Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors were supposed to have double Herbology, but the blizzard had led to its cancellation.

Maia linked arms with Draco – who was now simply fuming in silence – and walked along the corridors. She couldn't explain it, but there was a building sensation of panic in her stomach. She felt the same way she did on her seventh birthday, just before the chandelier fell, and like the time her Uncle Lucius took her and Draco to watch the England vs. Australia friendly when she was nine, just before the Chaser Kenneth Hastings took a Bludger to the head and broke his jaw in three places.

She just _knew_ that something bad was about to happen, but she couldn't tell what.

She ignored Draco as he launched into another tirade, unable to restrain himself, and walked blindly to class. She closed her eyes and tried to focus, tried to See, but she didn't have her cards, or her crystal ball and there was nothing to channel her Sight. All she knew was that something terrible was about to happen.

Professor McGonagall called the class to order, silencing Draco with a trademark glare, and began to explain the new spell they were working on. Maia struggled to concentrate and shook her head. She sat up straight. She tucked her hair behind her ears. She sat up even straighter. She clasped her hands in front of her and stared forwards.

She reprimanded herself internally. Blacks did not fidget, however discomposed they might be.

She finally managed to compose herself and sit still, expect for her foot, which she bounced up and down in her shoe with an urgency that was almost violent.

Really, she knew that she was being most ridiculous. She had absolutely no idea what she was so worried about. For all she knew, it really could be nothing. It could just be a bad feeling. People got them all the time.

But this is different, a little voice whispered in her head.

A stern reprimand pulled her thoughts back to the classroom, "Is everything in order, Miss. Black?"

She looked round to see Professor McGonagall standing in front of her. She glared pointedly at Maia's foot. She realised then that she had started to tap her foot on the floor. "Yes, Professor. My apologies."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, "Then kindly sit _still_, Miss. Black."

Her housemates were all staring at her incredulously, especially those who had been taught under Aunt Cassiopeia's regime. Fidgeting had been trained out of them many years ago.

Maia shook her head, indicating that she didn't wish to talk about it, and turned back to face the board. The bookish Ravenclaws were sending her glares as well. The new spell was complicated and they didn't want to be disadvantaged in any way.

Throughout the first class, the feeling in her stomach started to build and build. She felt as though she _must_ do something, but what? And even if she did know what she was supposed to do, would she do it anyway? She wasn't a Gryffindor after heroics and glory. She had to look out for herself.

She'd begun working on the spell with Draco, but hadn't made any progress at all. In fact, she couldn't even remember what it was.

"What's wrong with you?" he said.

She didn't get a chance to answer because a shriek filled the room. Tracey was in tears. The Ravenclaws looked horrified. Vincent was holding his wand with both hands and staring at the floor with a wide, open mouth.

Vincent and Gregory had been working together, but his spell had missed the object he was supposed to be working on, and Gregory, and had hit Daphne from behind.

And now a blonde badger was crawling about the floor where Daphne had previously been working.

"Fix her! Professor you have to fix her!" wailed Tracey.

Vincent looked as though he might cry as well when McGonagall started to shout.

For one moment, the feeling in the pit of Maia's stomach subsided and she hoped that this was it. This was the thing she had felt coming.

But then she doubled over and caught Draco's arm for support.

She Saw someone crying, and it wasn't Tracey. It was a boy, a blonde boy... Ernie. Why was Ernie crying? Ernie was family and he was going to be hurt, or upset. She had to help him! He was one of the few people in this world to whom she had pledged her loyalty, and he was one of the few who she knew she would do anything to help.

She tried to see again but her gut feeling just told her that it wasn't safe here, Hogwarts wasn't safe, the corridors weren't safe!

"Professor!" She called out, getting no response.

"Professor!" She tried again, only to have McGonagall turn to her sharply.

"What is it, Miss. Black?" She snapped, "In case it has escaped your notice, I am dealing with Mr. Crabbe."

"Something bad is going to happen."

Her Professor rolled her eyes, "I assure you, you are in no danger in this classroom."

"No, something bad is going to happen!"

"And how are you privy to this information, Miss. Black?"

Maia fought the urge to stamp her foot in frustration. She _knew_. Why wasn't that good enough for her underworked and overpaid teacher. "I just do, I know it. I've Seen it."

"I am afraid, Miss. Black, that I require something more solid that your feelings. Now, return to your work with Mr. Malfoy or I will forced to remove points for your consistent interruption of my class."

"May I be excused?" She begged. She was desperate. Surely the woman could recognise that. She was Black. She did not normally beg for anything.

"No you may not. And that's five points from Slytherin."

Draco tugged at her sleeve to bring her back to their work before she could retort. Then something in her snapped. She was the Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Her money paid for this woman's wages. She did not have to listen to her.

Maia turned on her heel and ran out of the classroom. She could hear McGonagall calling after her, taking twenty points from Slytherin but she didn't care.

The image of Ernie crying filled her mind, and then an image of the upstairs corridors. Ernie had these classes off, maybe he was upstairs? Maybe he was going to have an accident?

She ran up the stairs two at a time in a fashion so unladylike she couldn't quite believe that she was in her right mind.

Perhaps she wasn't?

Perhaps she ought to stop?

She kept running up and up until she came to an abrupt halt. What was she actually achieving in doing this? She'd just lost twenty five points for her House, and was running around in a fluster like – pardon her language – a common mudblood, as her aunt would say.

She walked along the corridor, until she saw Justin Finch-Fletchley pacing up and down.

"Black, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in class?" He said, pulling himself to a halt and bowing to her.

She inclined her head and curtseyed. He'd finally learnt his manners. "I had a bad feeling."

"Oh?"

The feeling came back with a sudden force and she stumbled. Finch-Fletchley moved towards her but she held out her hand to stop him. "I'm quite alright."

"Shall we go into a classroom? Would you like to sit down?"

She nodded, "Yes... yes we should. There's something wrong with the corridor."

"Whatever do you mean, Black?"

"It isn't safe."

Finch-Fletchley paled but nodded all the same. He never had been a brave person; he had never wanted to be brave. And Maia Black's odd behaviour was making him feel distinctly uneasy.

"Did you hear that?" He said, his voice rising slightly.

Maia shook her head.

"I definitely heard something."

She was overcome with the sudden urge to run for her life. She was about to act on it when she held herself back. She had acted ridiculously enough for one day. She was a Black, she told herself once again. She walked, she did not run.

"Children, what are you doing out of class?" said a voice.

They both turned to see Sir Nicholas walking towards them.

And then the world went black.

As black as night.

...

**I think we can safely say that being a Seer did not work in Maia's favour in this chapter.**

**Reviews would be appreciated. : )**


	49. The Ride of the Valkyries

**I do not own Harry Potter**

**Trigger warning: grief/snobbery**

Chapter Forty Nine_ The Ride of the Valkyries_

Outside Black Rose House, the early morning air was fresh and crisp. Further south than Hogwarts, the Yorkshire Dales had not seen any snow as yet. Instead, a coating of frost glittered in the sunlight.

Trixie was busy in the garden, collecting the magical roses – which bloomed all year round – to create a new display in the dining room. Mistress Caroline had been very sad these past months, since good master Marius had died, and now she was missing dear mistress Maia. It did not help, Trixie thought stubbornly, that dear mistress Maia had decided to play Quidditch. It was such a rough and tumble sport, she said to herself with a shake of her head, and nice little girls like Maia had no business playing it. Not when they were nearly grown-up young witches.

Trixie looked around the garden and settled for Windsor roses. They were mistress Caroline's favourite after all. Once she had filled her basket, she carried it back to the kitchen where Twinky was just taking a fresh loaf of bread out of the oven.

"I is thinking," said Twinky, "that we could be making them a pea and mint soup for lunch and roast lamp with rosemary and thyme for this evening."

Trixie nodded and smiled. She had been used to running the house on her own for many years, before they had moved here. This was also the case with Twinky. The first few weeks between Twinky and herself had therefore been very tense, neither of them wanting to give up their previous level of authority and defer to the other. In the end, they had become friends after an argument over the correct method of making bread and butter pudding had led to them sharing their favourite recipes. After that, they had come to the conclusion that they were the two best house elves in the world, who were lucky to have found each other, and that with their combined brilliance they would keep the best house for the best family in the entire world.

They had not shared a cross word since then.

Twinky jerked her head towards a letter with the Black seal as she turned out the loaf from its tin. "That be coming this morning with master Draco's owl."

Trixie beamed, "It must be from dear mistress Maia, then. I shall be taking it to the mistresses with their breakfast."

Trixie then shifted the weight of the basket and toddled off to see to the flower arrangement. It was still early, and neither mistress Caroline nor mistress Cassiopeia were awake yet. The two house elves busied themselves, and within the hour the dining room table was adorned with a luscious display of Windsor roses and laden with a selection of pastries and fruit. The crisp linen table cloth had not one crease in it, and the silverware – embossed with the Black crest – gleamed upon it.

Caroline sipped her strong English Breakfast Tea blend as she admired Trixie's handiwork. "You know, Cassiopeia, I do feel better about having two house elves, instead of one."

Cassiopeia put down her own cup and saucer, "Of course it is always preferable to have as many servants as possible." She said, with a raise of her eyebrow. At least, she thought to herself, Caroline was not trying to discuss _feelings_ or _emotions_ with her. Caroline's attempt to 'help' her with her grief had become rather tedious. As ever, Cassiopeia had now acknowledged that she'd made her bed and must therefore lie in it. One momentary lapse into self-pity was simply a lapse that ought to be forgotten.

This was also an improvement on Caroline's second favourite topic of conversation: Maia playing Quidditch. While Cassiopeia disapproved of Maia's Quidditch antics as much a Caroline, it was for very different reasons. In her not-so-humble opinion, the girl could break as many bones as she wished if it made her see sense and abandon the game. Perhaps she could introduce her to a more ladylike sport? She could take her riding on an Aethonan over Yule?

"Oh no," said Caroline with a slight smile, "I meant that I should not like the two dears to be overworked. It must be much better for them to be able to split the work and have each other's company."

Cassiopeia rolled her eyes and sighed, "I highly doubt they were ever overworked in our previous establishments. If anything, they are probably underworked here."

Caroline gasped, "Goodness, how could you say such a thing!"

Cassiopeia shrugged ever-so-slightly, "It is simply the truth. It is the nature of the house elf to desire activity and work at all times. When there is not enough for them to do in their employers house, they are often known to slip into the homes of nearby muggles and do work for them, unnoticed of course."

Suddenly, Caroline laughed.

"What on earth is no amusing, Caroline?"

"It doesn't go unnoticed."

"I assure you, by the laws of the Statute of Secrecy-"

"Oh no, they don't attribute to house elves. But you see, we have legends of brownies who slip into homes and do the housework and other good deeds. They are said to be little creatures, very sweet and honest and friendly. Goodness, we even have a fairytale about a shoemaker who had tiny elves creep into his house at night and do his work for him! There is a group called the Brownies, for little girls, who promise to be like the elves and do good turns and help other people."

Cassiopeia even managed a rare smile, "You don't say? That is rather quaint on the muggles' part."

At the doorway, Trixie smiled and made a mental note to share the story with Twinky that evening. House elves always liked to know that their help was appreciated, and it was true, they had been slipping into the garden of an elderly couple in the village and tending to their flower beds.

Trixie walked over to mistress Cassiopeia, bearing the letter on a silver platter. Cassiopeia took the letter and broke the seal. As she read the letter, her colouring changed from pale to puce.

"Duelling lessons! She'll have more duelling lessons than she can cope with! The shame! _The shame_!" She covered her eyes with her hand.

"Whatever is the matter, Cassiopeia?"

"Maia Violetta has wrought _unspeakable_ shame upon the House of Black!"

Caroline looked very concerned, "Is she alright? Is she in trouble?"

"Oh she is in a great deal of trouble with me! She went to a duelling class last night and was paired with one Seamus Finnegan and _lost_ to him! He even took her wand! The shame! To think that the wand of Bellatrix Lestrange, of the Heir to the House of Black, was even _held_ by one such as him!"

"A duel? What on earth are children doing duelling? And who on earth is Finnegan? Why should she not be associating with him?" Said Caroline frantically, her concern for her daughter had not been abated in the slightest by Cassiopeia's response.

"Well, children have to duel each other. They have to learn somewhere, that's hardly the point. The _point_ is that she lost! To this Finnegan boy!"

"To be blunt, Cassiopeia, she's twelve years old and I don't care if she won or not, what I want to know is what's so wrong with this Seamus Finnegan? Why is it bad for her to be near him? Is he trouble?"

Cassiopeia picked up her tea cup, downed the last of it in her fury, and slammed it down on the table. "To be blunt myself, Caroline, you don't understand. The honour of the House of Black may one day rest on her ability to duel-"

"-then train her yourself-"

"-believe me, I shall and-"

"-Now tell me about Finnegan!" snapped Caroline, who had half-risen from her chair and was almost shouting.

Finally, Cassiopeia relented. "Very well, I know nothing of the boy."

"Then why worry me so?" Said Caroline, sinking back into her chair with relief.

"Well, that's the point. I know nothing of him. He's a categorical nobody. He'll be from an inconsequential family with no prospects."

Caroline nodded slowly, "So you mean to say he's working class? Is that really so very bad?"

"You've got the beazor and the goat. It can't be thought that the likes of him can defeat the likes of our own Maia Violetta. It will give people like _him_ ideas and the whole foundation of our society – all concepts of order and decency and propriety – will go straight out of the window."

Caroline poured herself another cup of tea, sensing that it would be needed. "You know, in the muggle world certain moves have been made..."

"Oh don't be ridiculous, the muggle world is not so very different to our own in _that_ respect."

"Yes, well, perhaps this Mr. Finnegan is just a naturally talented duellist. We should not hold that – or his birth – against him."

"If that is the case, I hope he trains himself and does as well as he can out of it. However, _Maia_ will never have those concerns, she will never be in need of employment, and as I've said before, she may, as Head of House, be challenged to a duel and she must, in all circumstances, triumph. She should never be seen to lose any duel, even her first."

Caroline rolled her eyes, "Then give her lessons, but for goodness sake be nice to her! She's a good girl."

"Of course she's a good girl," said Cassiopeia, "but I shall be as stern as I need to be. She's let her Transfiguration grades slip as well-"

"-she was only four marks off of an 'O' in her last essay-"

"-which means that it's still an _'E'_!"

Caroline shook her head, giving in. "Yes, well, I'm going to a meeting for the WI, would you like to join me?"

"Don't be absurd."

Caroline rose from the table, knowing that know that Cassiopeia was wound up, she would be unreasonable until supper. She remembered when she had first met Cassiopeia, and the woman had appeared sickened by the concept of being in the same room as her. Really, they had come a long way in their relationship over the course of the years. And she could sympathise with Cassiopeia's more negative traits. After all, they had had similar upbringings and similar world views, even if they had been applied in different worlds and different contexts. And, thought Caroline with a small smile, she had mellowed with the times and quite liked the increasingly free and liberal nature of the world around her. As long as a guillotine was never installed beneath Nelson's Column and the Square re-named for a revolution, she was not going to complain. That was not, however, the case with her sister-in-law. But, then again, life wouldn't be quite the same if Cassiopeia were not something of a zealot and a battle axe. Truth be told, Caroline rather enjoyed Cassiopeia's rants and quirks.

Not the mounted heads of former servants though, that was just a little _too_ much for Caroline's delicate sensibilities, she thought with a shudder.

Putting on her coat to go to the meeting, Caroline shook her head and smiled. Perhaps Maia ought to learn how to defend herself. And Cassiopeia would enjoy teaching her.

...

A few hours later, Caroline drummed her fingers on the table as Mrs. Talbot-Gower droned on and on about ways in which they could make the next church bring-and-buy sell seem more upmarket.

Really, it was a bring-and-buy sell on the church lawn. There was a limit as to how upmarket it was _ever_ going to be.

Then, the monotony was broken when the door to the church hall was thrown open and Cassiopeia marched into the room. The other ladies looked up, scandalised. They recognised the woman as their newest member's elderly, spinster sister-in-law who, truth be told, was not exactly _normal_. They were all for modesty in dress, but this woman was practically _Victorian_ and her mannerisms were condescending, at best.

Caroline stood up quickly, "Cassiopeia," she cringed when she saw the other women raise their eyebrows at each other at the admittedly outlandish name, "whatever's the matter? Is Maia well?" Again, the eyebrows rose, although not quite as much this time.

Cassiopeia shook her head quickly. In fact, now that she was closer, Caroline thought that she looked positively _distressed_.

Cassiopeia looked around the room. Of course, Caroline would want an explanation straight away. Well, she could hardly tell her the details in a room full of stupid muggles. "Maia has had an... accident, at school." She said. "We need to travel to see her."

Cassiopeia rolled her eyes as the inane condolences began. None of these relentlessly _middle_ _class_ women (as Caroline would say) could comprehend the severity of the situation. The Heir to their noble, ancient and aristocratic family had been Petrified. Their very bloodline was in danger.

And her poor niece was in danger, and Caroline had been through so much already...

Cassiopeia dismissed the errant and overly sentimental thought. She had to be practical in a crisis. That was who she was. Caroline dealt with silly things like the emotional well being of others, not she.

The two women quickly left the room and, turning into a side lane, Cassiopeia looked up and down to make sure they weren't being watched, while the questions began to pour forth from Caroline.

"What happened? Is she badly hurt? How did you find out? When did you hear?"

"She was attacked."

A hand flew to Caroline's mouth and she sagged against the wall. Cassiopeia helped her to straighten herself. "Like the other students?"

"Yes."

"So she's..."

"Yes. She has been Petrified."

Then, the rage came. It didn't happen often, in fact, Caroline had only been truly angry three times in her life. The first was during the war, when she had seen a woman robbed of her ration book. The second was when those interfering pen-pushers had drawn their wands on her innocent daughter. The third was just after Marius had died, and she had felt as though the world had wronged her deeply.

This was the fourth.

"You mean to say that they have _still_ failed to find the assailant. That whoever or whatever has been attacking the students has not been apprehended and that insufficient steps have been taken to ensure the safety of _my daughter_!"

Cassiopeia's face was equally outraged, "It would seem so. And I strongly suggest we let them know exactly what we think of their incompetence."

Caroline all but snatched the letter from her sister-in-law and was only enraged further by the platitudes of the deputy headmistress. Did the woman really have the _gall_ to tell her that there would be no lasting damage once they managed to revive Maia? Was that supposed to be some sort of _comfort_ when she saw the lifeless form of her _only daughter?_

"I quite agree with you."

Caroline held onto Cassiopeia's arm as tightly as she could. She really hated apparition but she would go through anything for her daughter.

...

The Great Hall was eerily quiet that lunchtime. The Slytherin second years – all of them – were oddly pale faced and red-eyed. Though they were not the only ones; most of the snakes looked drawn and grey. If _they_, Slytherin's own students, were not safe, then who was? If the Heir to one of the most aristocratic families with the most ancient of bloodlines was not safe, then who was?

It was a sentiment echoed by most of the staff and students.

Professor Snape had even gone so far as to hold a meeting in the Common Room before the beginning of lunch. This was almost unheard of. Professor Snape _never_ spoke directly to his students unless he absolutely had to.

If nothing else, it pressed home the gravity of the situation to all who dwelled within the walls of Hogwarts.

Ernie Macmillan was the lone badger at the snake table, and nobody dared to comment. Every now and then a fresh tear, which he could no longer fight back, would spill over. In one fell swoop he had lost both his cousin and his best friend. Daphne squeezed his hand, trying harder than ever not to cry herself. Bertram passed her a handkerchief, whilst putting a comforting arm around Queenie's shoulder.

Draco's plate was empty in front of him. He made no move to touch his food. He stared forwards, unseeing, as if he had been Petrified by shock.

Albus Dumbledore suddenly sat up straighter and put down the goblet of pumpkin juice, over which he had previously been brooding. Professor McGonagall frowned at him, and he whispered something that made her pale.

"_The wards have been breached._"

Fighting down the panic as to who could be attacking the school, she was about to stand and order the students to the safety of their Common Rooms when the doors to the Great Hall swung open.

_Of course_, was her first thought.

_And I can't say I blame them_, was her second.

Cassiopeia Black stormed down the middle of the Great Hall, wand in hand already. Her movements were sharp, angular and bordered on violence. Her eyes blazed and not a hair was out of place. Caroline Black followed close behind. Throughout her life she had been known for her elegance, her sedate manners and her easy temper. The last person who had seen her in such a state of wild fury was Amos Diggory, and he had definitely come off worse in that confrontation.

Albus Dumbledore rose and bowed in greeting. The Blacks were known for their tempers and he had no desire for this to turn ugly if it could remain civil. The children were all distressed enough as it was. "Madam Black, Mrs. Black, perhaps you would like to accompany me-"

"Hold. Your. Tongue." Snarled Caroline, "And explain to me, right now and in great detail, _how_," she waved the letter violently, "this could have happened. And I _suggest_ you emphasise the parts which _might_ persuade me not to instigate legal proceedings. Or worse."

Dumbledore coughed, "Of course, I understand that you're distressed-"

"You. Are. Not. Answering. My. Question."

The cousins looked at each other. They had always thought that Cassiopeia was the most terrifying woman on earth outside of Azkaban. Suddenly, they were all re-thinking this assumption.

"And might I remind you," snapped Caroline, "that I am not accustomed to being kept _waiting_."

Sighing, Dumbledore turned to Cassiopeia, "Madam Black, in the interests of the security of the rest of the students-"

"-You mean the students who by sheer luck and _not_ by your competence remain un-Petrified?"

Dumbledore's pale blue eyes looked around the room sadly. It was a low blow and a very true one. However, it was Cassiopeia who he needed to speak to most urgently. Caroline _could_ be kept waiting.

"Yes, those very students. Could you tell me how you managed to get past the wards? Through the gates, I believe?"

Dumbledore remembered Cassiopeia Black very well from her time as a student, then a prefect, and finally Head Girl. She was calculating, had a ruthlessly mean streak and could be dangerously deceptive. To her, all human interaction was a game and an art form.

He saw that in her now; he recognised that gleam in her eye. She saw him as her prey and she wanted to destroy him. She wanted to destroy him verbally, physically, psychologically, metaphysically, magically...

"And if I do, will you answer my _dear_ sister-in-law's very _pertinent_ questions?"

Internally, Dumbledore sighed again. Her voice was sickly sweet, overly polite and laced with venom. He knew very well that she had probably been playing poor Caroline for years, and that the woman probably had no idea. In Caroline's mind, she was probably the team mate, or even the leader, in this interaction. Dumbledore knew better. Poor Caroline Black was just a muggle who was out of her depth, and poor Maia Black was just a child who knew nothing else. Cassiopeia was his problem within the House of Black. _She_ was the one he had to deal with.

He nodded his agreement.

Cassiopeia flashed him a smile that seemed to bare her teeth more than anything else, "Very well, then. _I blew them up_."

...

**Comments on the Cassiopeia/Caroline relationship would be especially appreciated, as I'd really like to know what everyone else makes of it. : ) **

**I also hope that you think I've got the tone right, and kept everyone in character. Let me know what you like and what you think I can do better!**

**Thank you for all the reviews that I've had so far.**


	50. The Wrath of Cassiopeia Black

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Fifty_ The Wrath of Cassiopeia Black_

"You blew up the gates?" repeated Dumbledore, slowly.

Cassiopeia tilted her head, "Yes, I blew them up. Quite spectacularly. Are you having trouble with your hearing in your old age, Dumbledore?"

McGonagall half-rose from her seat, "Madam Black, I really must protest-"

Caroline recognised the woman who had delivered Maia to her eleven years ago and fixed her with a glare. Her voice cold, she said very calmly, "As Maia's _mother_, I find that _I _must protest. I demand to know the circumstances which led to my daughter's current incapacitation, the steps which will be taken to revive her and the measures you will now put in place to protect the rest of the study body, and to prevent other parents and families from enduring the suffering with which _I_ am currently afflicted."

"All the same-"

Professor Snape raised his hand and cut McGonagall off, "Minerva, I am afraid some of the blame must lie with me," he said smoothly, "I was aware that the Blacks would be coming, I simply failed to anticipate their level of urgency and speed. Perhaps, Madam Black and Mrs. Black, you will be so kind as to allow me to escort you to see Miss. Black? I am sure you will be able to address you concerns to the Headmaster once he is satisfied that all his _security measures_" Snape's lip curled unpleasantly, but the emotion vanished as quickly as it appeared, "remain intact."

He rose from his seat, his face blank as his dark eyes scanned the hall. If only the brats were usually this attentive. He inclined his head to Cassiopeia as he stepped down from the raised dais to join them. He offered his arm to Caroline, closing his eyes momentarily but suppressing any other response, and led them towards the Hospital Wing.

As the doors swung shut behind them, the Great Hall broke out into loud discussion.

...

Severus Snape glanced at the woman on his elbow. He kept his disdain hidden from his features, but he felt it nonetheless. This woman was one of the few muggles ever to set foot in Hogwarts and he couldn't help but feel disapproving.

And yet, he knew that his attitude was not wise. She had married into one of the most powerful wizarding families in the British Isles and her daughter was its next Heir. Severus Snape had, throughout his life, felt the lowness of his birth. He had felt his mother's mistake throughout his life.

The Half-Blood Prince.

The Prince family was not particularly noted, but it was enough for him to be accepted within Slytherin House. It was the first place that he had been welcomed and accepted in his whole life. It was his first real home. He made friends there – real friends – who paved the way for him. They bought him back into the magical fold.

Lucius Malfoy had been a prefect in his first year, and had taken him under his wing. He owed his loyalty to Lucius and by extension his family; first the Malfoys, and then the Blacks. It had not been hard to give, at first, while they were still in school. As the years went by, he found that they demanded more of him, more of his morality, at the expense of his better judgement and better nature.

But that was his mistake.

_Lily_

He pushed the thought away. She had also been his friend, but he had lost her through his own stupidity, his inability to hold his tongue, and his misguided loyalty to the Dark Lord.

Lucius had been misguided as well.

Most of the others had been more than misguided.

He doubted, however, that Lucius had the real strength to step away from the Dark Lord's service. Lucius was dancing on a double-edged sword. He was pirouetting between the Dark and the Light and when push came to shove he could easily fall victim to either side.

Severus could not judge him harshly. Severus had nobody to protect but himself, as he had lost the only person he had ever held dear.

_Lily_

Lucius still had to protect his family and his position. He would not pick until his hand was forced. If Lucius wanted to turn to the Light, he would not do so unless he was sure his family were safe from the Dark Lord's wrath. If he wanted to turn to the Dark, he would not show his true colours until the Dark Lord had returned. Until either of those moments came, Lucius would dance and dance and dance.

He knew the Lucius was on his way. He had floo-called his friend as soon as Maia Black had been discovered. His reaction later would be interesting to watch. It always was.

Severus had struggled to hide his own horror when he saw her frozen, unseeing body. He did not _like_ any of his students, but he always attached a certain value to his snakes, even if he preferred to hold them at a distance. He did not want the children knocking on his door all hours of the day and night, sniffing and crying. However, his snakes were _his _snakes and he would always come through for them in the end. That was why he had even gone to the Common Room to reassure them.

And, as well as Maia being one of his students, she also fell into that rare category of students which he was vaguely inclined to value. They were usually came from old families and were usually Slytherins. They were among the few of the brats in these old walls who could be trusted to sit up straight, in silence and not speak out of turn.

While Maia's grades were very good, her knowledge was largely hard-gained and had been instilled into her with the order that a good daughter of the House was always well-informed and well-read. In that respect, she was not brilliant, she was merely well-trained. However, in the field of potions she displayed a genuine level of talent and ability. He did not want one of his best – Severus Snape did not _really_ have favourites – students falling behind because someone had taken it into their head to pretend to be Slytherin's Heir.

They had made their way through the corridors – Mrs. Black had been unsurprised by the portraits, ghosts and moving staircases, though she had visited before for the Quidditch match – and now Severus Snape pushed open the door to the Hospital Wing.

...

Instantly, Madam Pomfrey rushed forward, "Severus, you told me that the Blacks would not be arriving until tomorrow." She admonished.

"I merely advised that they would arrive tomorrow, I gave you no direct confirmation either way."

Cassiopeia sneered at the bustling woman as she and Caroline quickly made their way to Maia's bedside. Maia's unchanging expression, if anything, was one of annoyance. It was as if she had realised in the seconds before her Petrification what was about to happen to her and felt the fate to be beneath her. Cassiopeia was secretly rather proud that she had schooled her niece so well that even in her weakest moments she was as proud and disdainful as a Black should be. She took one of Maia's frozen hands in her own. It was so cold.

This attack was not life threatening – Cassiopeia knew that – but she got no joy from seeing her niece and Heir in this state. It didn't cloud her judgement; she was not about to idolise Maia just because she was on her sickbed, but she did slightly regret her harsh words at the Quidditch match and that morning. Perhaps, when she was awoken, they could discuss matters and set everything right.

It was natural for a child to lose their first duel. Her loss was unfortunate, but Maia could challenge the Finnegan creature in the future – when she had been trained – and avenge the dishonour. And she was a child, still, with a stubborn streak. In time she could be talked out of the Quidditch nonsense.

In fact, all her fury was now directed towards Albus Dumbledore. How dare the man allow a daughter of the House of Black to be attacked?

She would make him pay.

...

Caroline clutched her heart as she slowly sat down in the chair next to Maia's bed. Her rage hadn't subsided in the slightest, but now, rather than being blind and incontrollable, it simply burned steadily.

She closed her eyes and brushed a few strands of hair out of Maia's face. She remembered when Maia was just a baby, and she'd sat for hours watching her sleep. She'd realised then that she loved the child _so much_. There were no words for it. All those love songs she and Marius had danced to when they were young had suddenly taken on a new meaning. It wasn't just the love of a partner that filled her life; it was love of a child. A baby.

Unconditional love.

No strings attached.

Oh, her poor, poor baby.

But Maia would get better, and until then she would dedicate herself to ensuring that no other parent had to go through this as well.

Caroline looked around the ward, and it suddenly struck her as extremely odd that they were the only parent's who had come to visit their children.

What was it Maia had said when she'd first written home about the attacks, that muggleborns were being targeted? Surely the muggle parents were not being prevented from seeing their children? No, it was uncountable. Surely not?

She turned to see that Cassiopeia was in deep discussion with Maia's Head of House. She turned to Maia and stroked her hair again. Cassiopeia would tell her about it later. For now, she had no desire to leave her daughter's side.

Then Albus Dumbledore, along with Minerva McGonagall, entered the room. The two people who had delivered her darling daughter to her, charging her with her protection, were now the two who she blamed – along with the attacker – for her daughter's vulnerability and incapacitation.

"The wards are all in order, though the gate will take some repairing." Caroline did not have to turn to know Cassiopeia was smirking, "Miss. Black's friends are waiting outside, if you wish, we can continue this discussion in my office. They are most desirous to see their friend." Began Professor Dumbledore calmly.

"Perhaps that would be best." Added McGonagall.

Caroline glanced towards the door and imagined how much this must pain poor Draco, and the rest of Maia's friends and cousins.

"No, they can wait. I taught them patience." Snapped Cassiopeia. "I have been conversing with Professor Snape and I find that neither of us are satisfied with your security arrangements."

Dumbledore nodded, "We have had little information to go on. I am as distressed as you are."

"And you are also responsible."

"Cassiopeia Black, I suggest you watch your tone." Said McGonagall briskly, drawing herself up to her fullest height.

"I suggest you watch yours. Your school ma'am tone does not work on a woman twenty years your senior. That's when we exclude the fact that I am superior to you in so many other ways that to count them would be arrogant."

Dumbledore raised his hand, "Minerva, the Blacks have every right to take whichever tone they choose. All of us must, at all times, realise that we have failings and that we make mistakes. I can do little to stop the attacker, as we have no idea as to who might be the guilty party. That magic involved is certainly beyond the capabilities of any student, and as for the staff-"

"So, have you begun to vet them after one had the Dark Lord sticking out the back of his head for nine months?"

Dumbledore's pale blue eyes flashed for a moment, but his face remained calm and blank, tinged with the requisite amount of sorrow, "Madam Black, I have complete faith in all of my staff. The events of last year will not be repeated. I will not allow myself to be duped again." He looked away, knowing full well that he had risked too much last year. He had wanted Harry to go after the Stone, but he thought that he had matters in hand. He did not think that Quirrell could pose such a threat. He had been blind and foolish. Harry was still a boy and Tom was dangerous. He would not forget that again.

The weight of his years hung heavily on Albus Dumbledore's shoulders.

"Our arguments are getting us nowhere."

Dumbledore looked up in surprise to see that Caroline had spoken. He smiled weakly at her. As soon as he had met her, all those years ago, he had been overwhelmed by her openness and kindness. She was the role model Maia needed. It was a shame that she had not been strong enough to hold back the influence of Cassiopeia. "I agree with you, Mrs. Black."

"I stand by what I said before, your security measures – or lack thereof – disgust me. If you cannot trace the attacker, I insist that you call in the Ministry of Magic. It is not enough that you urge caution in your students. If the magical threat is so advanced, then what hope does an eleven or twelve year old have? I demand that all students are escorted to their classes by teachers, who, one hopes, have the ability to defend them."

Minerva looked towards Caroline for the first time, taken somewhat aback. In her experience, she had never known a muggle accept and understand their world so quickly. She was also struck by the memory of the complete adoration she had seen on Caroline's face, the day she had first handed her Maia. There was no doubt in Minerva McGonagall's mind that she loved that child as her own flesh and blood. She could not imagine Caroline's pain.

Severus Snape inclined his head, "I quite agree with Mrs. Black." He said smoothly. In fact, he did, as he had no desire for more of his snakes to end up Petrified in the Hospital Wing because they had the misfortune to be alone with a muggleborn. That, and Cassiopeia Black had just assured him that he would regret it for the rest of his days if he did not agree with every word the Blacks said.

"As do I." Said Dumbledore.

"Those are not all the recommendations we will give you, Headmaster." Said Cassiopeia, coldly, "I will exert all my influence to secure the future safety of my Heir whilst she resides within these walls."

"Of course."

Just then, the doors swung open once more and the matron rushed forward, "Headmaster, I really must protest, my patients-"

"-Are completely unaware of their surroundings." Snapped Lucius Malfoy. Madam Pompfrey backed away as he entered the room. "I came as soon as I heard." He said, turning to Cassiopeia and then to Caroline, before quickly turning away from the latter.

"I respect your diligence, Mr. Malfoy." Said Dumbledore, his eyes momentarily losing their sorrow, replaced with something else entirely.

"Thank you, Headmaster. When my family is distressed, I must attend to them."

"Then we shall leave you."

The Headmaster and McGonnagall left, and the potions master made to go with them. Lucius called Severus back, and the trio of former Slytherins slipped to a far corner of the room, conversing in hushed tones.

Caroline remained at Maia's bedside, stroking her hair over and over again.

...

Lucius Malfoy strode out of the Hospital Wing, his cane rapping on the floor with every step he took. He glanced towards the opposite wall, where a cluster of students in Slytherin robes stood. He was surprised. He had expected only the cousins to be there, but he recognised both the Nott boys, and Hamish Pucey's son. Queenie Greengrass was there, holding her sister's hand. That alone might have explained her presence, but it did not explain the rest of the children, some of whom he could not place.

Perhaps he had underestimated the girl. She certainly had something about her. It was not only Cassiopeia who she had captivated.

He was gratified to see his son jump to attention the moment he caught his eye.

"Come with me, Draco." He said, his voice ice-like.

Draco followed his father, trying to hide his hesitation.

...

Severus escorted Caroline and Cassiopeia through the corridors and opened the wall for them. A number of Cassiopeia's former students instinctively sat up and straightened their attire. An even greater number of the students stood up, bowing and curtseying as the trio passed. Caroline was pleased her daughter had been living with such well-brought up, well-mannered children. It was sweet, the way her friends and cousins had waited to see Maia. It bought Caroline some comfort.

Severus directed them to Maia's dorm room. It was surprisingly tidy, given that three twelve year olds were sharing the room, but then, they were all such good girls.

Cassiopeia began to stack the books into the trunk, pleased that what was still in there was neatly folded. She frowned at a number of the library books Maia was reading – _Hairy Snout, Human Heart_ was a load of leftish propaganda. But then, the poor girl could not help but read what she was assigned. Cassiopeia resolved to have a discussion with Maia on the importance of blood purity once she awoke. Muggle blood could be overlooked and overcome, animal blood could not.

Caroline sat down on Maia's bed and tried to tempt Askella into her cage. She covered her eyes and cried for the first time since she had found out.

What had she ever done to deserve all of this?

...

**Reviews would be wonderful! Thank you for everyone who has reviewed, followed or added this story to favourites so far. It really means a lot to know that you're enjoying the story.**

**I think this was one of my weaker chapters, but there were so many viewpoints I wanted to show and it's the first time Dumbledore, McGonagall and Caroline have been in the same room and there are so many secrets! I mean, Cassiopeia knows, but nobody knows she knows. Lucius knows there was an Annie Black, but thinks she's dead. Dumbledore, Caroline and McGonagall all know, so they have this 'undertone' to everything they say, and poor Snape has no idea! **


	51. We Hold On To What Is Left

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Fifty One_ We Hold On To What Is Left_

Lucius Malfoy held his sobbing wife close to his heart later that evening. As she clung to him, shaking, distraught and frightened, he could not help but feel a little relieved.

_He was not suspected_.

Dumbledore could give him all the cold looks he wanted; it was nothing more than the same dislike the old man reserved for all former Death Eaters such as himself.

Poor Severus, he thought, always walking the tightrope of a spy. And a tightrope always has more than enough rope to make a noose. He didn't envy his old friend.

But Lucius' heart was heavy, in spite of his relief. He had not wanted any child to get hurt.

The mudbloods in those beds were unfortunate, but disposable. They would be awoken, and he could console himself with that.

But his wife was hurting, and he had caused it. Even grim-faced Cassiopeia had betrayed her feelings during their discussion in the Hospital Wing. And Caroline – and he hated to say it – but poor Caroline. No woman, not even a muggle, deserved this. Not after everything she had already been through.

And Draco.

He had had to have stern words with the boy. Lucius had heard things about him of late that he had not liked. The boy could not cry in public. But at least he had stopped asking about the Chamber of Secrets, now that Lucius had told him that it had been opened once before, long before he was a student.

He kissed his wife's forehead, "I'll do everything to put this right, dearest."

She nodded, "I know you will, you always do."

"And I am so sorry."

"For what?"

"For everything. For every time I have failed you and caused you pain."

She shook her head and held him tighter, "We never speak of those times for a reason, because I have long ago forgiven and forgotten."

...

A day later, Hermione Granger sat in the library, surrounded by books. Every book on all serpent and serpent-related magic and the history of serpents and serpent magic that Hogwarts held was now organised into a list of relevance and importance. She would go through them one by one. She would work out what was happening, even if it was the last thing she ever did.

This couldn't go on any longer.

She never thought that she would see the day when she pitied Draco Malfoy. But she did. She felt _sorry_ for him.

...

It was a cold afternoon. The sun was shining, but the air was freezing. Icicles hung from the archway and although the paths had been cleared, snow covered the grass. A few owls flew overhead, most of them carrying letters home. There had been far more post of late than normal, as parents were desperate to know that their children were safe. Wizarding Britain was teetering on the precipice of mass hysteria. It was rumoured that the Prophet would be running a story soon, even though the Blacks had been trying to keep it out of the papers.

Draco sat alone in the courtyard, reading a long letter from his mother. He rubbed the back of his head and set his jaw. He wouldn't cry anymore. His father had said he must not cry.

Draco massaged his aching neck. He was not sleeping well. Whatever Maia had Seen, had made her run out into the hallway. She would never have been attacked if she had been alone. Of that he was certain.

It was that stupid mudblood's fault.

Ernie could cry all he wanted. Ernie could feel bad for his mudblood all he wanted.

Ernie was soft. Ernie was a traitor.

Draco Malfoy was not a traitor.

And Draco Malfoy did not get cross, he got even.

Justin Finch-Fletchley would live to regret the day he brought harm to Maia Black.

Justin Finch-Fletchley would be punished for bringing pain to the House of Malfoy.

...

It was very late. Lucius slept soundly in the bed next to her, but Narcissa lay awake. It had been three days.

She couldn't quite believe that it had been that long already, even though the days had dragged by. She'd written to Draco so many times that Lucius had finally told her to stop mothering him, although he always thought the was mothering him. A small, sad smile passed across her face.

Poor Caroline, she really didn't deserve this. And Narcissa felt sorry for herself. She was certain that she didn't deserve this either. What had she done that was so very terrible that she was fated to watch her family fall apart and suffer around her over and over again?

She felt like a child once more, and not in a good way. She remembered when Andromeda ran away, when she, Narcissa, had still been in Hogwarts. It had been painful. All she had wanted then was her mother's arms around her and her sister back. But Andromeda had never come back and all Narcissa had got were the stern words that Andromeda was as good as dead to them, and that if she, Narcissa, ever brought such shame on the House of Black, the same fate would befall her.

Narcissa rolled over onto her back and sat up in bed. She reached over for the wand on her bedside table, and summoned her shawl to her. Wrapping it tightly around herself, she stood up and slipped her feet into the soft slippers waiting for her. The night air was cool and it was clear that winter was drawing near.

She crept out of the room – careful not to wake her sleeping husband who was being so kind to Caroline and so helpful to Cassiopeia – and walked along the corridors. It felt good to walk. It was more relaxing to move than to lie awake in frustration.

She went to the library and opened the window, breathing deeply. The fresh air calmed her more. On the desk was an unfinished letter, the same one she had started every morning and left unfinished every night. She had burned each attempt thus far, and started anew every morning.

Her relationship with her mother had not been good for a few years. They had been strained ever since she had allowed – no, encouraged – Draco to befriend Maia. They had been tense ever since she had allowed – no, wanted – Maia to become Heir over Draco. They had not spoken since Uncle Marius had died.

She looked down and read the letter again. She shook her head and screwed it into a tight ball. That would never do. Sighing, she sat down at the desk and hoped that perhaps the stillness of the night would help her. The rest of the world was asleep, and now it was just her and the paper and the quill and the ink. There would be no interruptions.

_Dear Mother,_

_I write first to assure you that Draco, Lucius and I are all well. As we have not corresponded these past months, to inform you of this is my first duty as a daughter._

_I write also to inform you that a great tragedy has befallen the House of Black. You may have heard the rumours, but if not, then I must tell you that muggleborns are being attacked in Hogwarts. They are saying that the Chamber of Secrets has been opened. A few days ago, our Heir, Maia Violetta Black, was attacked. She is currently Petrified in this Hospital Wing. I know that you are not fond or her, and that you disapprove of her, but surely you must understand the pain it must cause all of us to know that one of our own, one of our family, even if they are a half blood, has been attacked?_

_Under these circumstances, I cannot bear to be on bad terms with you. Family is the most important thing, you always taught me that, and I wish to repair our relationship. In times like this, we must present a united front._

_Yours in blood,_

_Narcissa Malfoy, Lady of the House of Malfoy, Daughter of the House of Black._

She nodded abruptly to herself, and summoned Dobby to deliver it for her. It was now or never. She would only lose her nerve or find a sentence which displeased her in the morning, and then the letter would never be sent.

...

As she had done many times before, Caroline left the room admiring Cassiopeia's energy. She had thrown herself into organising the dispatch of Aurors to Hogwarts. It was a plan still in process, and needed ministerial approval, but Caroline had no doubt that Cassiopeia would secure it. Cassiopeia had also agreed that arrangements should be made for muggle parents to visit their children. As it stood, they could neither locate nor travel to Hogwarts. Cassiopeia had doubted that they had the means to even contact the school. It was something that would have to change, thought Caroline to herself. Although she understood that this was not Cassiopeia's top priority. She was not always the most open-minded woman when she came to muggles, though Caroline was sure that she was also not as close-minded as she was inclined to act. If she was so short-sighted, the two of them would not live together as they did. She was sure.

Caroline wandered up to Maia's room. The trunk sat, untouched, at the foot of her bed. The roses in her window were black, as was the vase. It was as if the room was in mourning, though she knew it was Trixie who had picked them. The poor house elf was so distraught that she had needed two doses of calming draught.

Caroline ran her hand along the bedpost, and knelt before the trunk. She breathed in deeply when she lifted the lid, imagining that a part of Maia was in there.

She lifted out each of the books in turn, tracing the lettering and the binding. She read through Maia's notes from class; she had such beautiful writing. She wrote exactly like Cassiopeia, exactly like Marius. She supposed they had all been taught the same way. Her own handwriting was just as curly, but a lot less neat.

Caroline picked up the star chart and spread it out in front of her, searching for the Taurus constellation.

She sighed, seeing the school robes that came next. But she smiled to herself, at least going through all of Maia's things gave her something to do. And at least she knew that Maia would be coming back to her in the end.

She would hold on to that.

...

**Hello! Things are getting very busy with work at the moment, so from now on, I plan to have regular updates every Monday and try and follow a set pattern. I've been thinking that shorter (but regular) chapters are probably the best course of action, but let me know what you think of this. : )**


	52. Facts are Stubborn

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Fifty Two_ Facts Are Stubborn_

Caroline spread the robes out onto the bed. She could remember the pink sparkly dresses she'd given Maia for her second birthday, the first birthday she'd spent with herself and Marius. The dresses seemed so tiny now, in retrospect. When had Maia gotten so tall?

She laughed quietly and shook her head, knowing that Maia was a perfectly normal height for her age. It seemed she had not inherited the grand height of Cassiopeia and Marius, although there was plenty of time for that. She might still catch up with them.

Because Maia would wake up.

Soon.

She traced the snake on the school robes. Maia had been so happy to go to school with her cousins, and despite the bullying at the start of the previous year, had made more good friends in her House. Her Head of House might be severe and distant, but he knew - and carried out - his duty to his students. She really couldn't fault him on that head. He had been most helpful to them, and had even written to say that he was making sure notes were being taken for Maia, so that she could later catch up on all the work she was missing.

Severus Snape really was an obliging gentleman. It surprised her, as he looked distinctly unfriendly at first sight. Though, she thought with a thin smile, Cassiopeia had been the same.

Caroline folded the robes and tidied them away in Maia's wardrobe. She was almost sad when she realised that she was getting closer to the bottom of the trunk. Then what would she do?

...

Remus Lupin couldn't help looking up to the skies when he poured his morning cup of tea. He'd taken to eating breakfast by the window. It was sad and silly, he knew, but he was missing Maia's letters. He wondered why she had stopped writing. At first he was worried that Cassiopeia had discovered their correspondence, but he was certain now that she hadn't. He wouldn't be standing here like this if she had. He'd probably be on his way to Azkaban, or whatever fate she saw fit to 'arrange' for him. His jaw clenched slightly, before he shook away the feeling. He was better than that. He had to be.

He sighed and shook his head. He had no doubt that the truth was simply that Maia had better things to do with her time than write letters to an aging, unwanted werewolf.

He sighed again as he stirred the milk into the tea. He had tried so hard to always do the right thing. He had always tried to be dutiful, responsible, honourable, and yet things never seemed to go to plan. He smiled wistfully. His life would be very different now if he had taken Maia in when he should have. He would have glamoured her and passed her off as his own.

He looked around his cramped flat.

This was no place for a child.

Maia was happy with Caroline, and had been given everything money could buy, and had been loved as a child should be loved. Who was he to think he could be a parent? No child deserved to be burdened with a werewolf for a parent; they would always be shunned.

He looked up in hope as an owl appeared, but it was only his copy of the Prophet. He opened the window handed over a couple of knuts. He was in half a mind to cancel his order; the Prophet only ever printed nonsense.

He turned the paper over anyway.

_MUGGLEBORNS ATTACKED IN HOGWARTS SCHOOL_

_By special correspondent, Rita Skeeter_

_The Daily Prophet can now reveal that there have been anti-muggleborn attacks taking place in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry since Hallowe'en. Attempts have been made since the night the first attack took place to conceal events from the wider wizarding community. Those responsible for this deception claim that it is to allow families to grieve in private and to protect Hogwarts students from external intrusion._

_The Daily Prophet believes that the wizarding community cannot be kept safe in ignorance. These attacks – and misguided attempt to keep them secret – raise serious concerns as to the safety of Hogwarts and the competence of its staff, especially the aging Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, the one-time hero of Grindelwald's last duel in 1945._

_The first attack took place on Hallowe'en, when the cat of Mr. A. Filch, Squib and roundly disliked caretaker of Hogwarts, was found Petrified and suspended from the ceiling by horrified students. This attack may have been shocking, but worse was to come. Whoever is responsible soon found that they were not satisfied with attacking pets, and swiftly moved on to attacking students._

_First year muggleborn, Colin Creevey, was attacked following the Slytherin vs. Gryffindor Quidditch match in early November. Then, just last week, the school suffered a triple attack. The beloved ghost of Gryffindor House – affectionately known as Nearly Headless Nick – was found Petrified alongside muggleborn student Justin Finch-Fletchley. In a shocking twist, the third victim was none other than the half blood Heir to the House of Black and popular member of Slytherin House, Maia Black. _

Remus Lupin dropped the paper and ran to the bin, relieving his stomach of his breakfast.

...

"I'm telling you, it's Malfoy." Said Ron for the hundredth time.

Hermione huffed and pulled her book up over her face, indicating that she was playing no further part in the conversation.

It was late at night in the Common Room and although all the other first and second years had long since gone to bed, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger remained seated around their favourite fireplace. The two boys lounged on the floor, having finished their homework, while Hermione was re-reading one of the school textbooks, just to be sure that she had everything memorised.

Harry scratched his head, "But why would he attack his cousin? It doesn't make sense. Does it?"

"He's evil, that's why." Said Ron, sitting up and looking indignant, "He must be Slytherin's Heir. His family have been in Slytherin since the school was built. Not to repeat the part about him being evil."

Hermione sat up again and snapped the book shut. "I'm not sure if I should correct you thematically or chronologically, Ronald. Firstly, Malfoy is a nasty, spoilt, prejudiced, unbearable little boy, but he is not the source of all that is evil. He's not even thirteen yet, for Merlin's sake. And as much as he hates us, he loves his cousin. He was devastated when she was attacked last week and any idiot could see that-"

"-maybe he's a really good actor-"

"-or maybe someone he's grown up with was found Petrified by Dark Magic. Secondly, Hogwarts was founded in 990, and the Malfoy family only came to England from France in 1192. Therefore, they haven't _always_ been in the House of Slytherin. They haven't even married into direct line of descent from Salazar Slytherin as far as I can tell, so the likelihood of Malfoy being Slytherin's Heir is rather low."

Hermione sat back and picked up her book, glaring at Ron. After her conversation with Black in the library, Hermione had read through a number of books on wizarding genealogy and made a number of interesting discoveries. For example, the Malfoy family came to England after a marriage scandal when the Head of House married a Veela. She had always known that Malfoy's hair was unnaturally blonde. She'd also read about the House of Black and come to the conclusion that, judging by the standards of her relatives, Black was absolutely delightful.

"So you aren't going to brew the Bolyjuice potion?"

"It's Polyjuice, Ron, and no, I'm not. I'm not wasting my time and risking detention to illegally brew a potion that won't help us at all. We have no need to spy on Malfoy, and just sneaking into the Slytherin Dungeons with no other agenda than to _have a look just in case_ is absolutely futile."

Ron looked mightily annoyed.

Harry sighed, "I guess we're back to square one then. How did you know that about Malfoy anyway?"

Hermione frowned. She'd never lied to the boys before, but she didn't feel she could tell them about her conversations with Black. Ron hated her so much that he wouldn't understand, and neither of them would like it. Instead, she told a half-truth. "I decided to look into wizarding genealogy."

"Only stuck up purebloods care about stuff like that." Said Ron.

Hermione shrugged, "I thought it might be helpful. Whoever's behind this is, probably, a stuck-up pureblood, after all. I did find something out that was interesting, as it happens."

"Oh?"

She smiled. She wouldn't tell Harry that he was distantly related to Black; that was Black's business. However, there was nothing to stop her lightening the mood and winding Ron up at the same time.

"I found out that Ron is related to Maia."

"NO!"

"Oh yes you are, second cousins twice removed." She said smugly, disappearing behind her book once again.

...

Caroline had almost reached the bottom of the trunk, when her hands grasped around a bundle of letters, tied with string. They had been tucked into a corner, as if Maia had been trying to hide them.

She tugged at them. They were half-stuck under a heavy book. With a final pull, they were free. She lifted them out and frowned. She walked over to the creamy-coloured chair next to the floor-length curtains and sat down

Her hands rested over the knot that held them together.

She took a deep breath.

And pulled the string.

...

The headline had been bad enough, but what could one expect from that piece of low-blood filth, Rita Skeeter? No matter that she, she Cassiopeia Andromeda Black, had demanded this incident stay out of the papers until she, she Cassiopeia Andromeda Black, had decided how it would be played. No, no matter at all to Skeeter. Cassiopeia snarled as she continued to read the front page of the Daily Prophet.

_In a shocking twist, the third victim was none other than the half blood Heir to the House of Black and popular member of Slytherin House, Maia Black. _

_My sources inform me that Maia Black has previously been a victim of blood-related bullying, and that this incident was allowed to continue, unchecked and unnoticed, for almost two months. Maia Black - the daughter of the recently deceased Squib, Marius Black, and his muggle wife, Caroline Black - was repeatedly corned and tormented with the slur 'm*dblood' by a fellow first year. It is stories such as these which raise concerns regarding Albus Dumbledore's competency as Headmaster of Hogwarts School. After all, if a man who claims to stand for the Light cannot control blood-purist tendencies among young children, how can he deal with a Dark Witch or Wizard who is clearly running amok in his school?_

_Relatives of the two muggle students were not available for comment, as their fireplaces didn't seem to function with Floo Calls, however, this reporter did manage to get in touch with the Acting Head of the House of Black, Cassiopeia Black. A noted intellectual with blood-purist tendencies herself, Cassiopeia Black is an imposing and unfriendly woman. When asked how she felt regarding the attack on her niece, Madam Black threatened to make her niece's Petrification "look like pleasant slumber" if your journalist did not immediately remove herself from the vicinity. _

_When pressed further, Madam Black snapped, "Any fool already knows how I feel about Hogwarts and Dumbledore, given that I took great delight in blowing up his property. I have many concerns regarding Hogwarts School, but I don't generally share my personal business with petty hacks. As for my niece, as soon as she's awakened, I will be giving her advanced duelling lessons so that she can better defend herself in the future and so that she doesn't have to put up with the company of scum and filth such as yourself."_

_There is also the irony that the Heir to the House of Black should be victim of an anti-muggle attack, when the actual Head of House, Sirius Orion Black, is currently imprisoned in Azkaban for crimes against muggles..._

Cassiopeia rolled her eyes as Skeeter recycled the old story about poor Sirius once again.

Whoever was behind these attacks _had_ to be incompetent; anyone with any ability would have been able to recognise Maia as the aristocratic pureblood that she was. This concerned Cassiopeia far more than the way Skeeter had portrayed her. The Daily Prophet would sing to her tune eventually. But Dark Magic running _amok_ in the hands of a _fool_ in the school where a number of her protégées dwelled was deeply disconcerting. Nevertheless, between them, she and Lucius would be able to address the situation.

She sighed and tossed the paper aside. She leant back in her chair, crossed her hands in front of herself, and stared at them as she went over her thoughts.

A cough from the doorway caused her to look up. Caroline was holding a bundle of letters and the expression on her face was unreadable.

Cassiopeia frowned.

Caroline walked into the room and tossed the letters down on the low coffee table between them.

"Cassiopeia, I think we need to talk."

...


	53. The Truth Fears No Questions

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Fifty Three_ The Truth Fears No Questions _

Cassiopeia lifted her head and eyed the haphazard pile of letters warily. She then looked towards her sister in law. Caroline's face was impassive. If she had been a witch, Cassiopeia would have sworn that she was practising Occlumency.

"Should I know what these are?" She asked, her usual clipped tones betraying no emotion. Never betray emotion when under pressure: rule number five for being a Black.

Caroline leant back and crossed her ankles, "Why don't you read them?"

Again, Cassiopeia looked at Caroline, trying to weigh her up. She carefully leant forwards and gathered the letters together. She shuffled through them, finding the one with the earliest date and began to read.

Halfway through the first letter, she gasped. "This is impossible!"

And, all of a sudden, Cassiopeia's carefully moulded and constructed life seemed to fall apart around her.

"You must know that Maia has been misled, Caroline?"

"Has she?" Asked Caroline coolly.

Cassiopeia's head twitched up from her reading, "Yes, of course! The nonsense they tell children these days... and that Headmaster..."

"Maia seems quite convinced."

"Well," said Cassiopeia, "she has always been a very trusting, kind-hearted sort of girl, like you. She can be easily manipulated."

"And I?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"And I, Cassiopeia? Can I be easily manipulated?"

Cassiopeia folded the letters and put them back down on the table. Her blue eyes seemed to darken a shade. "It would seem so, as you've been taken in by the werewolf once again."

"I find nothing disturbing in his correspondence."

"Don't you find it disturbing that a grown man would enter into a correspondence with a young girl in the first place? Especially when the correspondence is carried out unbeknownst to the girl's family?"

"What, exactly, are you insinuating, Cassiopeia?"

Cassiopeia sat up straighter and arched an eyebrow. She _had_ to salvage this. She had to straighten the tilting axis of her life. "What do you think I'm insinuating?"

"Perhaps you ought to be frank with me."

Suddenly, Cassiopeia stood up and began to pace up and down the room. Her feet sank ever-so-slightly into the thick Persian rug with every step she took. The mid-morning sun lightened the room, which would have been pleasant, had all the roses not been black. Black for mourning. She remained silent as she paced.

"If you aren't sure where to begin, if frankness is too alien to you, Cassiopeia, perhaps you ought to start at the beginning. It is where one usually starts a story, after all."

Cassiopeia came to an abrupt halt and turned sharply to Caroline. No one had ever _dared_ to take that tone with her in over half a century. Had Caroline been a lesser woman, she would have cowered under Cassiopeia's glare.

Cassiopeia's lips curled in to a snarl. It was rather rich of Caroline to comment on _her_ level of frankness. Who, _after all_, had _stolen _a child and raised it as her own? That was how one acquired a magical child when one couldn't produce one's own, _after all_.

Cassiopeia needed to know where she stood. She needed to know how to construct her plan. She needed to know how she could keep Maia close.

"What are you implying, Caroline? Pray tell, of what, _exactly_, are you accusing me?"

Caroline swallowed, still slightly unsure of her own accusation, everything was happening so quickly.

"I am implying that you led Marius and I to dismiss Remus Lupin, not because he was a danger to Maia, but because of your own prejudice against his... _condition_."

...

The letter was delivered on a silver platter, by a house elf whose only dream of a better life was to be decapitated, mounted, and displayed on the dark castle walls.

The house elf bowed deeply, its nose touching the ground, while he raised the platter still higher. He remained that way as Druella Black slowly lifted the milk server and poured the creamy liquid into her tea. She did not look down as she stirred the tea three times clockwise, tapped the teaspoon against the cup, and then placed it down on the saucer. Again, she did not glance at the house elf as her finely boned hand reached down and picked up her letter.

The house elf walked backwards out of the room, its eyes cast down to the floor. Druella broke the seal and read the letter, and then read it again much faster.

All of a sudden, it seemed as if all her dreams had come true. The life within her, the flame that had once blazed brightly, was ignited again for the first time since another house elf, all those years ago, had bowed low and delivered her husband's wand.

"_Master Cygnus wished to spare you, ma'am."_

The memory burned fresh once again. Her husband, the coward. The man who could not stand straight and face his fate. The man whose fate should have never led him to Azkaban in the first place. The man who should have been sitting opposite her, in the house in which they had raised their daughters, not in this barren excuse for a home. The man she had loved regardless of all else. The man who was gone.

Yes, the memory burned. It burned with all the pain of a broken heart.

She stood up quickly, turning to the imposing fireplace behind her. She threw the powder, watching as the flames suddenly turned from gold to emerald.

"Crabbe Manor!"

...

Cassiopeia breathed out deeply and collected her thoughts. However this ended, she needed to be there to protect and direct Maia. As long as she could bring Caroline to her way of thinking, or at least continue to accept that she was a required presence in Maia's life, then all would be well.

Slowly, she _adopted_ the air of a penitent, and walked back to her chair. She carefully lowered herself down into her seat. "You accuse me a prejudice which I see only as safety and self-preservation. The wizarding world has, for hundreds of years, been divided in its assessment of werewolves. Most, the vast majority, have viewed them as Dark and dangerous. There is a small minority, albeit a growing one, which views them as fundamentally human, merely afflicted with a terrible illness. But I do not believe it is prejudice to seek to protect my family from the unknown, from that which is not understood. For all that Maia has read and believed, there is no – and I repeat no – conclusive proof in either direction."

"But you admit the possibility that you were wrong?"

Cassiopeia frowned, forcing herself to maintain her act, when all the while she could feel the infamous fiery temper of the House of Black constantly flaring in the pit of her stomach, "I will admit that there are those who will claim that I was wrong. But I did not act in bad faith, to that I will never own. Have you ever read about Fenrir Greyback, Caroline? Do you know _anything_ of him? The moment I saw his name... I have never been so frightened. Never. Not in my entire life. Against him, I felt powerless. The name Fenrir Greyback is almost akin to that of the Dark Lord."

"But Remus Lupin is not Fenrir Greyback. I should have known that the day you told me about both of them."

"Perhaps not, but I would never take a risk with Maia's welfare for the sake of leftist social niceties." Snapped Cassiopeia. She was losing control. She could feel it.

"I wish you had been honest with us. I hate to feel that I have, somehow, been manipulated."

Cassiopeia looked back towards the letter, "What do you plan to do now?"

"I suppose that I will write to Lupin, telling him that I also subscribe to Maia's apology, and granting him permission to correspond with my daughter if she wishes to pursue the acquaintance once she awakens."

At this, Cassiopeia almost lost control of her tongue. She almost said something that she would regret. Only years of practice kept her silent. She could feel her fear, mixed with anger, bubbling in her throat. She could not lose Maia. And she certainly could not lose her to Lupin.

"Do you really think that wise?"

"Yes, I do." Caroline all but snapped.

Cassiopeia's hand almost reached for her wand. This could all be fixed with a simple _Obliviate_. But then this would only resurface once again, sooner or later. And she could not control the future. The next time their lies came back to haunt them, she might not be so well placed as she was now.

Because, for all her own lies, Cassiopeia still had the upper hand.

She knew that Caroline had her own lies and her own secrets, and that Caroline did not know that these secrets had not remained silent. Perhaps then, maybe... perhaps she ought to tell the truth? All of it? She and Caroline were, after all, bound together in mutual deceit. They could not go their separate ways when they both knew that they shared in the secret, the guilt. Neither of them could afford to have a loose Avada running around, after all.

What was it they say? You have to be my ally, you know too much.

Unless, of course, it was Cassiopeia's temper, and not her reason, which was doing the thinking. She wasn't sure which was in control anymore. Her hands were shaking. She took a deep breath, and finally spoke again.

"Perhaps you would not, if you knew what I do."

"And what, Cassiopeia, do you know now?"

"I know that Remus Lupin was never _just _Maia's tutor." Cassiopeia paused, relishing in her moment of dramatic, manipulative flair, "He's her Godfather."

Caroline visibly paled, but to her credit, she cast her eyes around disdainfully and feigned ignorance. "That's preposterous. Maia's Godparents were business associates of Marius', Charles Sinclair and Elizabeth Beaumont."

Cassiopeia sneered, "Oh, I'm sorry. I meant he _was_ her Godfather before you _stole_ her. _Now_, what was the name her real father preferred?"

Cassiopeia made a show of prentending to think, as though she was struggling to recall a long-forgotten memory.

"Oh yes... _Annabelle Black._"

...

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story so far.**

**I'm going away on holiday for just over a week, so there won't be any updates during that time. I'll post again on Tuesday or Wednesday next week. However, I've left you with my favourite cliff-hanger thus far! : ) **


	54. Nothing to Fear From Lies

**I do not own Harry Potter**

'**The man who fears no truth, has nothing to fear from lies' – Sir Francis Bacon**

Chapter Fifty Four_ Nothing To Fear From Lies_

"I beg your pardon?" said Caroline weakly. She clutched the arm of her chair. She tried to be subtle, but she was sure she failed. Her hands were shaking.

"You heard me." Cassiopeia picked up a handful of the letters and waved them in her fist, "You come here, you _dare_ to come here, with these ridiculous letters, with accusations you can't even _comprehend_, and expect me to _listen_ to you? You accuse _me_ of deceit? If I have lied – and I will admit, I have told _many_ lies in my lifetime – then you have lied just as much!"

"You don't understand-"

"I don't understand? _I_ don't understand? I assure you, I understand _very_ well. In fact, I think I understand better than you do yourself. Maia is _not_ your daughter and never was. You, Caroline, have never carried a child in your life. Maia is not even _Marius'_ daughter. Her mother was Marlene McKinnon, before her marriage. She was the pureblood daughter of an ancient Irish Clan, a Clan famed for its wealth, its power and the Seer blood which ran through its veins. Her father was Sirius Black, the _current_ Head of the House of Black, a _faithful_ and _true_ adherent of the old ways. Sweet Merlin, if only he _knew_ who had raised daughter!"

Cassiopeia paused from her tirade and spun around to see a pale-faced Caroline, with tears in her eyes, as if all the fight had been knocked out of her. Caroline had done well over the years, thought Cassiopeia, but she could never be a match for _her_. She would never match her strength, her fortitude, her _fight_, because she was not a _true_ Black.

"But then Sirius doesn't know, does he? He has no idea. Who did he leave her with? Who did he _really_ leave her with? And how did _you_ get hold of her? What did you and Marius _do_?" Her lip curled, "I've always wondered, you know." She added conversationally with heavy overtone of sarcasm, "I've always wondered how you snatched her away. You must have had help."

Caroline swallowed. All her life, she had been quiet and caring. It was how she was supposed to be. She knew she had a temper, but it flared only rarely. And usually, it came to her when she wanted to defend another. She rarely felt angry for herself. And now, here was her sister-in-law, who she loved and held dear, who truly thought that she had _stolen_ Maia. How could she think so little of her?

And all these years, all these lies had existed between them.

Everything was a lie.

Everything.

Her whole life.

Everything she had built up.

Everything she loved.

All of it.

All of it was built on lie after lie after lie.

They'd started out honestly enough, thinking that they could protect Maia by not telling her the truth.

But a white lie, is still a lie.

A half-truth is still a whole lie.

But the Lord knew she had only been trying to do the right thing.

It had been years since she'd even thought of the consequences of Maia finding out.

She had never even considered Cassiopeia.

"It wasn't like that." She said faintly.

"Oh, and how was it then?"

"Not like that. We didn't steal her. I thought we were doing the right thing. Dumbledore brought her to us. He said there was nowhere else for her to go." She pulled out a handkerchief and began to sob.

Cassiopeia straightened up. She had not anticipated this. "Dumbledore? Him?..." She felt as though she had been kicked in the stomach. All the wind was knocked out of her. She couldn't breathe. And then the rage began.

"How long then? How long have you been in cahoots with him? The whole time? All these years? Have you been working against me? Plotting behind my back?"

Caroline shook her head. It was still buried in the embroidered handkerchief. "Never, Cassiopeia. Never. Why are you so suspicious? Why are you so determined to see the worst in me? That was not what I was trying to say!"

"I might as well ask why _you_ are so determined to see the worst in _me_!" She cried, rushing forward, thrusting the letters beneath Caroline's eyes.

"And you expect me to find out that you somehow _came by_ a child, and that you helped to fake her death, forge the paperwork to go with it, lie to the whole family for years, and stand in league with Dumbledore, _without_ arousing my suspicion?"

Caroline took a deep breath and recovered herself. She sat up straight, then took another deep breath and stood. She and Cassiopeia were almost nose to nose.

"I am not 'in league' with anyone, and certainly not a man who is willing to see the worst in the child I love as my own. He would send us letters, asking for updates. He was so good and kind and easy to trust, _at first_. And yet, the day those muggles assaulted her, he sent an express owl concerned that she was _turning out like her birth father_! Maia is Marius' daughter, not _his_, and she is no more evil than you or I. Neither of us is perfect and I'm sorry Marlene died, I really am, but I love Maia just as much as she did. I love her and I'm not ashamed to have raised her."

Caroline walked over to the mantelpiece, and leant on it for support.

"I did not tell you, or anyone else, because I stopped seeing it as a secret. Call me weak, but I managed to forget. I saw it as an _adoption_. She was my daughter. I introduced her as my daughter. I thought that it was private. I thought that nobody else needed to know. I thought it wasn't their business."

She looked over towards Cassiopeia. The letters hung at her side, but Caroline could tell that her blood was still up. Her eyes were still narrowed.

"You know I'm telling the truth, Cassiopeia. Don't look at me like that. We know each other too well."

"Do we?"

"I hope we do. I should like to think that our friendship – if you will admit to it – is one of the true things to come out of this lie."

"I do not have friends. I have no need of them." She snapped.

"Are you quite sure of that?"

Cassiopeia jerked her head back and sneered again, "I do not have friends."

"And yet you feel betrayed by my deceit? What troubles me is that you knew of our lies. Why did you never talk to us? All these years, you kept the secret to yourself? You genuinely thought that we _kidnapped_ Maia? If you thought that, how could you have even kept up the _pretence_ of friendship?" She half-turned back to face to older woman, "Is that _really_ all it was?"

"It was. And I play with my cards close to my chest. And perhaps, on reflection, I preferred to think of her as kidnapped, than as you allied to that muggle-loving old fool." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Cassiopeia felt her heart constrict in her chest. But why? That _was_ what she thought, wasn't it?

"Muggle-loving old fool?" repeated Caroline slowly. She turned away, her back to Cassiopeia. "Is that what this comes down to? Blood? And how mine is not good enough to raise Maia? How it is not good enough for you?"

"That wasn't what I meant, you've done perfectly well-"

"That's _exactly _what you meant-"

"-Really, Caroline, it's just an insult. You're putting words into my mouth-"

"You're right it's an insult. It's an insult to me-"

"-If I really thought so little of you, do you think that I would consent to live under the same roof as you? That I would suggest it-"

"-I know that you are an accomplished liar, Cassiopeia. You are more than capable of deceiving me on that front. It seems that you have managed to lie to me a number of times over the years-"

"-oh, come, Caroline, really-"

"-No. You've just said it. You've just told me the truth. You _do not_ have friends. You _do not_ care for me, because you are not a _muggle-_loving fool. Tell me, when you thought that I had kidnapped Maia, what did you think? Was that what you expected from a muggle and a Squib, that you thought we were jealous of a witch and her family? Or that you thought we weren't good enough for her? Is that why you became close to us? Was that why you became so close to Maia?"

Caroline started to cry into her handkerchief again. Everything was a lie. And all those times that she'd told herself that Cassiopeia _did _care, that she was simply a little rough around the edges, she'd been lying to herself. Cassiopeia couldn't care for a muggle, any more than she could care for a half blood. Maia's purity was all that had mattered to her. It was all about blood. When she spoke again her voice was weak.

"I've been fooling myself into thinking that we were friends, into thinking that we cared for one another. It was wilful blindness on my part, to pretend you felt friendship but were too stubborn a woman to admit to it. No, the truth is that things have not really changed since the day we first met. To you, I am only filth." Caroline's heart hammered against her chest as she turned around.

Everything was falling apart.

Everything had been lies.

Even the friendship.

Even the love.

"I want to know how you found out. I want to know how you found out that Remus Lupin was Maia's Godfather, when we had no idea. I want to know how you could trick me into thinking that you were a good person, a caring person, when really all you wanted was to make sure that Maia wasn't corrupted by the _filthy_ muggle and the _filthy_ Squib." She was crying harder now. Goodness, she didn't want to, but once again her heart was breaking. It had been broken too many times in the last months. She didn't think it could be repaired again. "Because that was what this was to you, wasn't it?"

It was one of those rare moments in the life of Cassiopeia Black when she was rendered speechless. She shook her head wordlessly. Was she too angry too speak? Or was she too hurt by Caroline's words? She wasn't sure of herself. She wasn't sure at all. And she was _never_ unsure.

"Tell me!" Caroline howled, as if she were wounded, as if she were in actual, physical pain.

Cassiopeia swallowed. "When Maia had that vision, at her birthday, I knew her bloodline was not as you had claimed. There is no Seer blood in the Black family tree, and she could not have inherited it from you. I tried to think of a family. There are three families in all of the British Isles who are noted for having Seer blood, the Trelawney family, the Mopsus family and the McKinnon family. When I took Maia away to brew a calming draught, I searched her mind to find her past, to the find the memories she was too young to remember. That was how I found out her true parentage. Even if I had not recognised the Marlene girl from society gatherings, it would not have taken me long to deduce that she was Maia's _real _mother-"

"-_I'm_ Maia's real mother-"

"-I beg your pardon," said Cassiopeia, her voice dripping with scorn, "I thought the true matter that we were coming to was the fact that you _owe_ me. If Lupin came forward, I have no doubt that he would have full legal and magical right to assume guardianship of Maia. Your 'adoption' was not exactly above board and legal, was it?"

Cassiopeia tossed her head, "You admit yourself that you took the girl straight from the arms of another. The paperwork was all false, was it not? Annabelle Black's death was faked, was it not? I have kept that werewolf away from you. I have kept your lie for you. I have kept Maia safe."

Caroline's eyes flashed, "Had you said that half an hour ago, you might have convinced me. Lupin may or may not have the right to take Maia, but after more than a decade, it doesn't seem likely that he's going to try, does it?"

Caroline started to pace. She was more worried on that head than she cared to admit. But that was another matter, one which was separate to Cassiopeia, and which she would deal with later. "Moreover, you do not convince me that you kept the secret for my sake or Maia's. You did it for her blood. All these years, you've promoted her interests _knowing_ that she was a pureblood. Would you have acted the same if you still believed she was a half blood? Half an hour ago, my answer to that question would have been an incontrovertible yes. I trusted you. I believed in you. But now I see that I was sorely mistaken."

She paused and turned back to Cassiopeia, "I will not allow you to threaten or manipulate me. I am leaving, and when Maia awakes, she will be in my care and my care alone. You may disinherit her, if you wish. I do not care. I would sooner see her disinherited and disowned, than she her under the influence of someone whose only concern is the blood that is in her veins. It's just a collection of red and white blood cells, Cassiopeia. It's not her blood which is worth its weight in gold, it's _her._"

"You can't claim that you will call in the Ministry, or claim we kidnapped her. You've aided and abetted us for five years and you can hardly claim that you were harassed and intimidated by the _likes_ of Marius and myself."

"And you cannot claim to have acted in her best interests. You violated her mental privacy, Cassiopeia. I don't understand how, but you searched her mind, without her knowledge, without her consent. You expect me to trust you after you did something like _that_?"

Caroline turned coldly on her heel, "I will be gone within the hour." She said, with her back to Cassiopeia, and she walked out of the room without looking back.

...


	55. Except for their Consequences

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Fifty Five_ Except for their Consequences_

The door clicked shut behind Caroline, and Cassiopeia felt the letters fall from her grasp. They pooled at her feet and she trampled over them as she walked, almost staggered, towards the window. She looked out, but she didn't see.

_Muggle-loving fool_.

But that was how she felt. That was how she always felt. That was how she _had _always felt. She was a pureblood noble of the House of Black. Caroline was her inferior. That was how she had always felt.

Caroline was a pawn.

Caroline was expendable.

Caroline was not her friend.

Caroline did not matter.

Caroline's feelings did not matter.

_Muggle-loving fool_.

Caroline could leave.

Caroline was irrelevant.

Cassiopeia continued to stare out of the window for the briefest of moments. She blinked. She blinked again. She wasn't looking. She wasn't seeing. She sunk to the floor and held a wrinkled hand over her face as the tears streamed between her splayed fingers.

Marius was gone.

Maia was gone.

Caroline was gone.

...

That evening, Caroline looked around her suite at the Lanesborough hotel, as the relentless London traffic raged in the background. A siren wailed in the distance, because in London, a siren was always wailing somewhere. After a few years, Londoners managed to block the noise out. Caroline was not a Londoner. The noise grated on her already strained nerves. She'd had tea delivered to her room – camomile – and poured herself another cup. It would be a long night, which would follow an even longer day.

Really, she ought to count the day as an odd adventure. She ought to try and amuse herself with her recklessness. That was what she _ought_ to do, but of course she couldn't. She brushed away a solitary tear and scolded herself. She had cried enough for one day and it would not do to start again now. She truly wished that that conversation – that argument – had never taken place. But once spoken, words could not be taken back. And words could wound.

She had never deluded herself into thinking that Cassiopeia did not hold prejudices. She knew that Cassiopeia was a snob, but then she was a snob herself. She had thought that they'd found friendship in their snobbery.

But perhaps, some prejudices ran too deep.

Perhaps, some prejudices could not be overcome.

She had been naive, perhaps, to think that Cassiopeia did not look down on her, and still more naive, to think that she had stopped looking down on muggles in general.

Caroline sighed and stood up, walking over to the expansive window on the far side of the room. She was in her own lounge, in the next room was her bedroom and en-suite bathroom. She would be comfortable here until she made further arrangements. She looked through the glass and gazed out onto the manicured gardens of Buckingham Palace below. This was the hotel where she and Marius had spent the first few days of their honeymoon, although not in this suite, of course. Marius had spoiled her terribly over those few days, although in truth, he had not stopped doting on her until the day he died, just as she had not stopped doting on him.

She cast her gaze back around the room and it rested on the fireplace. After so many years, it felt odd to be completely back in the muggle world. She had Flooed to the Leaky Cauldron, first, having no desire to spend the day on the train. From there, she had had to hail herself a taxi and travel to her club – the Women's University Club – which had access to telephones, which the Leaky Cauldron did not. From there, she had worked her way through her favourite hotels until she found a last minute vacancy. Luck had bought her here.

She could have stayed at the Leaky Cauldron, of course, but she had never boarded in a pub in her life, and she was not about to start in her advancing years. As she had said before, the day had been an odd adventure.

She leant against the windowsill, fighting back the temptation to ask herself the worst of questions in a situation such as hers.

_Now what do I do?_

...

Seamus Finnegan held in his hand a clump of badly transfigured twigs. They now resembled flowers, after a fashion, if one squinted and was feeling particularly imaginative. Still, they were better than his first six attempts, all of which had spontaneously burst into flame.

He paced the floor up and down outside of the Hospital Wing, thanking both Merlin and Mary that Dean didn't know where he was and what he was doing.

It had been all too easy to dislike Black. Far too easy. In fact, hating her had been downright fun at times.

Especially after the dragon-incident.

He still wasn't sure if he believed Potter when he said that there really had been a dragon.

Either way, Seamus had really wanted to see the dragon. He had a thing about dragons.

Anyway, if there was one other thing that Seamus Finnegan couldn't resist, it was a challenge. He'd just wanted to make the girl crack a smile, was that so bad? Especially when she'd shown up at the start of the year looking so miserable all of the time. But his earliest attempts hadn't exactly been tactful, and running off with her wand had just enraged her.

But then she looked so funny when she was cross. She looked as though she actually thought she could order the world to obey her and devour him, just because _she_ demanded it. And damn, it was funny when she did that.

Then, of course, she had to go and get herself Petrified and now he just felt a bit guilty about the whole thing. He wasn't sure _why_ he felt guilty, but he wasn't one for deep introspection anyway.

He shook the brown and slightly wooden flowers. It must be that stupid sense of Gryffindor chivalry coming through; the Sorting Hat had warned him that it would.

Stupid Hat.

Stupid Black.

The doors of the Hospital Wing swung open and he dived out of the way as the two Slytherin girls he'd vowed to hate in both this world and the next one walked past.

"She's going to be so upset when she wakes up and sees all the work she's missed. And she'll worry that she missed the deadline for extra subjects for next year."

"I know, but at least Professor Snape said we could fill out an option form for her, as we'd all discussed what we'd like to take."

"What if she changes her mind?"

The taller of the two girls – Greengrass – shrugged delicately, "Then he'll change them later. It's just to give a better idea of the class schedules overall, I suppose."

"Well, I doubt that she'll find herself pushed out of Runes and Arithmacy because they're over-subscribed! Who in their right minds would take those subjects? One, maybe, but both?"

The friend shrugged again, "That's what Aunt Cassiopeia wrote and told us all to take. I think she's the only one who is actually going to listen though. I certainly don't plan on doing so."

Seamus watched as the two girls disappeared around the corner.

Looking doubtfully down at his bunch of 'flowers' once again, he took a deep breath and walked through the doors to the Hospital Wing. The matron was in her office and, thankfully, there were no other patients or visitors.

He walked over to Maia's beside and balked at the vast and expensive display of flowers which covered the tables on either side of her bed, and spilled over to the next table along. He shook his head and shrugged. It wasn't like he was trying to compete with _her lot,_ but he'd have felt better if his twigs had at least changed colour.

He looked at the display again and stuck his offering in an already full vase near the back.

"Well, 'tis hardly much of a gift, but I'm hoping y' feel better soon. Well, that y' wake up." He paused, "Well, anyway, I'm sorry about the whole stealing y' wand thing." He paused again, "And I'm sorry for the winking, though I dunno what was wrong with that."

He shrugged, looked around, felt rather stupid, and left the Hospital Wing as quickly as he could.

...

Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy were sitting together in their drawing room. Narcissa's head was inclined over her needlework, whilst Lucius read the Skeeter's leading article with barely concealed disgust.

"Darling, would you believe what she says-"

Narcissa held up a small hand and smiled. A curled lock of hair fell forwards over her face, which she then smoothed back behind her ear. "I know, darling, I know. You've quoted enough."

Lucius folded the paper and placed it down on the table, "I suppose I have, and I am quite certain that I couldn't bear to read another word."

"Cassiopeia will deal with her."

"As shall I." He said firmly, and was rewarded with another smile.

"I know you shall, my dear."

"She cannot cast aspersions on the House of Black, without insulting the House of Malfoy as well."

"She will, if she has any self of self preservation, not to cross us again."

"I'm not sure if she has that much sense."

"Then is will be in her best interests to acquire it."

There was a small 'crack' and Dobby appeared in the doorway. He bowed low to his master and mistress and stood. He cleared his throat. "A Mrs. Irma Black and a Mrs. Druella Black to see you, Sir," He bowed to Lucius. "Ma'am." He bowed again to Narcissa.

He clicked his fingers and the door swung open at the exact moment that he vanished with another 'crack'.

Druella Black and her widely-detested mother-in-law entered the room. Lucius stood up from his chair and bowed smartly, while Narcissa dipped her head.

Before another word could be said, Druella raised an expensively-gloved had to call for silence, "We must talk."

...


	56. By Close Relatives

**I do not own Harry Potter**

'**Generally, in life, you will be betrayed by close relatives' - Proverb**

Chapter Fifty Six_ By Close Relatives_

Narcissa looked around the room at her assembled relatives. As the conversation had progressed from her mother's melodramatic arrival, Narcissa eyebrows had moved higher and higher up her forehead.

What they proposed was akin to _treason_.

Had her mother lost her _mind_?

Lucius' expression was impassive, but it always was when he conducted business.

Because that was what this was; business.

This was not a social call between family, though she had never expected more from her mother. For all Narcissa mourned the loss of her family, she sometimes had to ask herself if she had ever _really_ had one in the first place?

She closed her eyes briefly and – discreetly - took a deep and calming breath. The selfishness and arrogance she had come to expect of the mother, who, she had to admit, she knew only in passing, never ceased to astound her. Perhaps there was more to her beneath the vapid and shallow veneer, but Narcissa highly doubted it. If there was anything buried there, it was pure stupidity.

Her mother _must_ be stupid.

Her plan, if it deserved the term, was ridiculous and doomed to failure.

Lucius leant back in his chair and their eyes met across the room, "I'm sure you'll understand if Narcissa and I discuss this privately." He said smoothly.

Irma raised an eyebrow, "I don't see why you need concern your wife in your decision, it's a cut and dry matter, and I doubt you're in the habit of consulting her."

"Perhaps, but I know that she wishes to discuss this now, and I am nothing if not indulgent." He stood and bowed to the two eldest ladies in the room, and held out an arm for the youngest.

Arms entwined, they walked out of the drawing room.

...

A number of days had passed. Caroline had sworn Trixie to secrecy regarding her location, and so Cassiopeia had no idea where she was. The elderly witch looked across the empty dining table, eating her breakfast alone, and wondered if it would be like this for the rest of her days.

The thought chilled her.

Not because Cassiopeia was unaccustomed to _solitude_, but because she had never feared _lonelines_s before. At least, she had not feared loneliness for a very, very long time.

But these past few days had been... disconcerting. Her heart seemed to ache, if such a thought was not completely ridiculous. But then, she had also hurt when Marius had passed away.

Her days and her house felt oddly empty without Caroline.

And her memories of their parting argument, and many other events over the course of the last five years, were now tinged with regret.

It was incomprehensible.

Her words had been careless and foolish. Had she controlled her tongue better, had she regulated herself better, all of this could have been avoided. Caroline would have been disappointed, but she would also have been easily placated. She would never have doubted her as she doubted her now. This had gone beyond the issue of the half-breed.

By rights, she should be pleased to have the sentimental muggle out of her life. Of course, there was the issue of her guardianship of Maia, but she could find a way to circumvent that...

Yet still, she felt like this.

She sighed and looked at her untouched breakfast. Had it come to this? Was she forced to admit that, perhaps, she had gone soft? Had she become a blood traitor? Had she become little better than the filth she had always taken such great delight in loathing?

Truthfully, she knew the answer to that question was no. She knew that she was right in her conviction that a hierarchy of families was necessary. The purebloods, the noble dynasties, served their world from above, and the rest served from below. She still despised goblins. She still despised werewolves. She still despised half-breeds and filth.

But Caroline?

Perhaps, she reasoned, her perception of filth had changed. If she was honest, she saw Irma Black as little more than filth for her lack of loyalty. She could apply that term to a number of other individuals who she listed among her acquaintance.

So, then, she had just become a little more... fluid in her judgements. She sighed and drank more tea.

Perhaps there was a way for her to bring Caroline back around?

To show her how she really felt?

As soon as the thought hit her, she pushed away her breakfast and briskly walked out of the room.

She would win back Caroline's good opinion.

That was what she would do.

And who would have thought the day would come when a muggle's judgement nigh on broke her heart?

But this was the consequence of breaking the thirteenth rule, the rule which was a curse on all who bore the name Black:

_All Blacks have a temper. Only lose it to control people, not because you can't control yourself. _

...

Caroline had taken the train to Ramsgate. Walking along the pavement and breathing in the fresh sea air, she wrapped her coat tighter around herself and wondered if he would come. Would she, if their positions were reversed?

The tide was in the harbour and the brown-blue sea lapped against the stone wall. It was an old wall, built of blocks of grey stone which were piled high and arranged to last. The paint on the metal railings had chipped away in a number of places over the years and she could see the rust forming. Still, when she closed her eyes and smelt the smell of the salt and the fish and the seaweed, she could imagine this place thousands of years ago, long before her cares and concerns had wearied her. When she imagined that, the peace and the emptiness, she felt better.

Because she _ached_. If her bones ached, she could dismiss it as age. But it wasn't her bones that troubled her, it was her heart.

First Marius.

Then Maia.

Now Cassiopeia.

She wanted to forget. She was trying to forget. But she missed the cantankerous old woman (who was not really that much older than herself) who had become such a permanent fixture in her life that she couldn't quite believe that she was gone.

And gone for good.

And today would not help her forget.

A hand reached out to touch her elbow, and she saw a face she had once thought that she would never see again.

"You came?"

...

As soon as the door was closed and the silencing charm was cast, husband and wife turned to each other.

"Does their plan trouble you, my love?" Asked Lucius.

Narcissa turned from him suddenly and crossed the room in a few steps. She wrung her hands and spun back round, "Of course it troubles me! Does it not trouble you?"

"It has flaws... but they could be removed."

Narcissa's eyes widened, "You are not serious?"

"My dear, they make a valid point."

"Valid point? It's treachery! And doomed to failure! Do you really think that Cassiopeia will back down? It's gone through the goblins, for Merlin's sake-"

"Yes, I know, but-"

"-But nothing! We owe Cassiopeia our loyalty. And she will destroy us if we go against her. The only way Maia can be removed from her position as Heir is through death or disownment. You know that."

"But Draco has Black blood in his veins, and his is far purer than hers. Would you deny that your blood is purer than that of a Squib and a muggle? Would you deny your son his blood-right?"

"Draco would never deny Maia hers'!"

Lucius walked up to his wife and placed a hand over either of her shoulders, "I am only trying to do my best for Draco."

"Then consider this. His inheritance from the Malfoys is an estate remortgaged up to the hilt! We are not poor and we want for nothing, I will not contradict that, but he will spend _his_ life repaying _your_ debts, garnered in funding the Dark Lord's campaign. The Dark Lord bled the estate _dry_, Lucius! And we both know that we would have been left with nothing had not Cassiopeia stepped in, had Cassiopeia not sold the dacha and the chalet! Had it not been for her, Bellatrix and the others would have been Kissed! Her money and her efforts saved us, and saved our honour! Lucius, if we turn our backs on her, do you not doubt that she would betray _us_? How much will she have to say, to put you in an Azkaban cell?"

She stepped back from her husband, and flung her arms out in front of herself, then clasped them together again, taking on a dramatic pose, "_I was just an old woman, your honour, living alone with my widowed sister-in-law. Malfoy showed me the Mark. He threatened me. I did as I was told – I knew it was wrong, I knew he was a Death Eater, I knew there was no Imperious Curse, but I was scared! Your honour, I was fearful of what he would do to me and my family. What can an old woman do against a pack of Death Eaters? He took my homes and my sense of safety , your honour!_"

Narcissa let her hands fall back to her sides, then approached her husband. She cupped his face in her hands, "I could not bear to lose you, my love. If we are not loyal, then we will lose everything. Draco will lose everything. We both know all his capital is going to come from Cassiopeia's will. If you cannot be loyal to the Black's for their own sake – for my sake – be loyal to them for Draco's."

Lucius nodded slowly, "Their plan would never work."

"She's Petrified, not dead."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"I know. We must be loyal. You must help Cassiopeia in every endeavour. You must help her take on Dumbledore. She's furious about the attack."

"I will. I will do everything in my power."

"But it pains me to think that Maia will-"

"Pretend she's a pureblood, darling. I'm sure it won't be that hard once you try."

...

Remus nodded, "I got your owl."

Caroline smiled weakly. "Still, I thought you would have nothing to say to me. Or, that you would not want to hear anything that I had to say."

Remus looked up and down the harbour. He tried to flatten his hair as the wind blew it around his head. He would need to cut it soon. "Perhaps we should find somewhere to sit, a cafe, perhaps?"

Caroline shook her head, "There are benches there. Maybe we ought not to have this conversation where we might be overheard."

"I'll get tea from the stand." Caroline moved to pull her purse from her handbag, "No, allow me." Said Remus, before she had finished with the clasp.

"Are you sure?"

He smiled thinly, "Quite sure."

Remus queued up to buy the tea, while Caroline sat down on the nearby bench. Her stomach was tying itself up in knots again. At least she wasn't letting it show. She sipped her tea from the cardboard cup as soon as Remus handed it to her. It tasted weak and cheap. Though what else had she expected? At least it was warm.

They sat in silence for a few moments.

"How is Maia?"

Caroline looked down into her tea, "She's fine. They'll be able to revive her, and the others, when the potion is finished."

"Do they know how long it will take?"

"Not yet, a few months at least though."

They lapsed into silence once again. Remus studied Caroline's face. She looked far older than he recalled, though perhaps the past few months had aged her. He had never been truly angry with her, or even with Marius. He might have raged, at first, but he had always known where the blame truly lay; with Cassiopeia, and with himself.

"I should apologise."

Caroline looked up quickly. This was the last thing she had expected. "Whatever for?"

"I breached your trust. Had I been honest with you and Marius from the outset, had I explained my situation – all of it – then I imagine things would have been very different. I should have had more faith in you from the outset."

Caroline shook her head, "I imagine you had your reasons, and I imagine they were decent."

"Still, lies only get you so far before they implode. I have always done my best to hide my condition, but I should have told you that I knew who Maia was, and I should have told you my relation to her."

"You said yourself that it's the nature of your condition to induce fear. I would have been frightened, I'm ashamed to say."

Remus shook his head, "No, it's true, the monster is terrifying."

"But one should be able to look beyond that."

"That is hard to do. I have long since accepted that."

Caroline turned to him, "You have more honour and decency than ten men. I would have looked beyond the beast, in time at least. Or I should like to think I would have. I do now. I can say that much with conviction."

"Then you have done far better than many others. But I did not tell you I was Maia's Godfather, and that was wrong. I lied for two reasons. First, I lied because I was ashamed. I turned away a child in need because I was weak and grieving. I could not look beyond my own prejudice against her father. I am ashamed of that to this day-"

"-I know what happened. I know what he did. You cannot be blamed for being hurt."

Remus pushed a hand through his hair roughly, "He was my best friend. At least, I thought he was my best friend and I would have trusted him with my life. James made that mistake. Marlene made that mistake. He helped to orchestrate the murder of the entire McKinnon family. A whole family, murdered in one day. Though he kept his pureblood daughter safe, of course, visiting the Potters. Lily and I watched over them." He shook his head and tilted it back and blinked rapidly. "Lily cried all night once James came home with the news."

Remus paused and took a deep breath, "But I lied for two reasons. I lied because when I saw the advert in the Prophet, I thought that Dumbledore had sent her to some of the more unsavoury Black relatives. I thought that she was in danger of being turned Dark. I was wrong, but..." His voice trailed away.

Caroline nodded, "I am in no position to judge you." She paused and took another sip of her tea. She noticed that Remus had not touched his. "I am happy for you to continue writing to her. I am more than happy for you to visit, I think you should. Perhaps, one day, you can help me explain the truth to her."

"You will tell her about her parents?"

She nodded sadly, "One day, when she is old enough. Not for a long time, I hope."

"She might never need to know."

"I don't want to lie. Not anymore."

"Marlene would want her to be happy. Maia loves you like her mother. You _are _her mother. You shouldn't taint her memory of Marius because of what _he_ did."

She sighed, "It is a problem for another day."

Remus leant back, "And you have broken with Cassiopeia?" He asked the question carefully, testing the waters.

Caroline nodded, "It seems that I was not the only one who lied. I am no more than a muggle to her, and I never will be."

"She must have come to care for you, in her own way..." He wanted to provide comfort, but his words sounded pathetic even to himself. But Caroline's shoulders dropped regardless and she drank deeply from the tea. She was hurting more than she would admit.

"I fear not. I fear I was mistaken in her."

...

"You can leave now." Said Lucius as he strode back into the room, arm in arm with his wife. She left his side to resume her seat.

Irma shook herself and looked up, "You have accepted, I take it?"

Narccisa smiled benignly, "I'm afraid we are obliged to decline."

"Whatever do you mean, you silly girl?" snapped her mother.

"I'm afraid," said Lucius calmly, "that the House of Malfoy is allied to the House of Black. We cannot break our word. Noble families, such as ourselves, conduct our dealings with honour."

"But Draco! My grandson!"

"Will be perfectly well."

"No," said Irma, "no, I refuse to allow this! I refuse to stand aside!" She rose to her feet, visibly shaking.

"I'm afraid you must." Said Lucius.

"But that brat, that piece of filth, that mudblood, that half-breed-"

"Will be the next Head of the House of Black."

"No!" wailed Druella.

Narcissa stood and pulled her mother to her feet, "Yes. And go, now, and pray that you never give me reason to tell Cassiopeia what you tried to do. You live off of her charity, mother. I make threats only rarely, but they are never, ever empty."

...

**A/N – Sorry for the long delay in posting. I'm going to try and put a chapter up tomorrow to make up for it! **


	57. A Winter's Tale

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Fifty Seven_ A Winter's Tale_

Winter had now truly arrived. Hogwarts was surrounded by a thick layer of snow, and would soon be eerily empty of students as they travelled home for the holidays. Only a handful would remained behind. More students were going home than ever before; nobody wanted to be the next victim of the Slytherin's Heir.

On the last day, while everyone else hurriedly packed for the train, Draco sat by Maia's bed. He did this most days. His pale hand rested on top of her cold one. He squeezed it.

"I wish you'd wake up. I don't like this."

He fell silent again.

His gaze rested on the golden-haired and freckled form of Justin Finch-Fletchley.

"I'll get him back, cousin. This is his fault, and nobody messes with us."

He didn't take his eyes off the Hufflepuff boy.

He stayed there as long as he could, until Daphne and Blaise came to tell him that the last few carriages were leaving.

...

For the Malfoys, Yule was a quiet affair. Draco spent most of day in silence, and opened his presents without one grain of enthusiasm. His sorrow had sent his mother running for her own chambers, weeping. Lucius had looked on, helpless, and prayed to Merlin and every merciful ancestor that his guilt was never uncovered.

Narcissa and Lucius had been shocked to discover, only the day after Druella and Irma had 'called', that Caroline had left Black Rose House, and vowed never to return. They did not know why. Cassiopeia refused to speak of the matter, merely saying that Caroline would return when she had come to her senses, and that such incidents of oddity were only to be expected from a muggle. At Cassiopeia's request, Narcissa had sworn not to contact Caroline, although Lucius knew she had secretly sent one letter, just the one, begging Caroline to come back. Caroline had answered kindly enough, saying that she would always be on good terms with Narcissa, Lucius and Draco, but living with Cassiopeia was out of the question.

_Why?_

Lucius, for his part, was pleased that the muggle was out of the way, and hoped it meant the half blood would soon be removed from the equation as well. Then, Draco could become Heir without him needing to dirty his hands in ridiculous schemes concocted by his mother-in-law.

...

For Caroline, the holiday had been equally painful. She had now rented a reasonably-sized apartment in Maida Vale. It suited her own needs perfectly, and she and Maia would not need anywhere large. It was, yet again, another fresh start. She disliked her own company for extended periods, and had spent many evenings at her Club. She had run into some old acquaintances, who she had not seen since her Cambridge days, and was trying to get by as best she could, all things considered.

She had travelled to Ramsgate a few more times, and had, in the end, persuaded Remus to spend Christmas day with her. She could not believe that he had spent the day alone for so many years. His situation made her feel very blessed and selfish. At least she had happy memories to dwell on, when she found the present too much to bear. Remus, it seemed, had very little joy in his life.

Overall, it had not been much of a Christmas, but she, Trixie and Remus had passed the day pleasantly enough.

...

Cassiopeia, on the other hand, spent Yule alone. She declined Narcissa'a invitation, and her niece had had the tact to understand. To spend Yule without her Heir, brother or sister-in-law would not be a joyous experience, and she had no desire to play happy families. She spent the day experimenting with her favourite curses. It would be a day off, as far as she was concerned.

In a way, it was the first day off that she had in a long time. Since Caroline had departed, Cassiopeia had taken it upon herself to both save and reform Hogwarts. The first thing she had done was to honour Caroline's most obvious wish. She had arranged for the muggle families of the other victims to be transported to Hogwarts twice a month to visit their offspring. She was gratified to see that the muggles were appreciative of her efforts. The Finch-Fletchleys were a surprisingly tasteful family, and Mrs. Finch-Fletchley struck her as a much younger Caroline. It seemed to confirm to her that there was a hierarchy in both magical and muggle societies that she must, in all common sense, acknowledge.

Her next move was to ensure the safety of the students. At first, she had considered conducting her own investigation. However, on reflection, she had decided to hand the case over to the Auror Office. Using her considerable influence, she had arranged for a team of Aurors to be stationed at the school to provide reassurance to the students and their families and to see if they could observe any suspicious behaviour. Another team would remain in the Office and seek to uncover any details from the last time the Chamber was supposedly opened, which might help them solve the current mystery.

Lucius had been of great help to her over the past few weeks. He constantly assured her that he would do all his in his power to defend the House of Black. His actions confirmed to her that while she may have made mistakes recently, mainly that she had failed to control her tongue at a crucial moment, her judgement was generally sound. She had always approved of Lucius. She had encouraged his match with Narcissa from the outset. There was the small matter of his service to the Dark Lord, but young men would be young men. And the Dark Lord's ideology and conduct might require _some_ adjustments, but she understood exactly where he was coming from. He was, after all, another pureblood who had been pushed too far.*

However, Cassiopeia's idea of 'reform' was rather comprehensive.

She decided that standards had to be improved.

She sat on the Board of Governors and had approved Lockhart's appointment simply because he was the only candidate. She had not expected him to be good at his job, in fact, she had expected him to be useless. He was a vain and supercilious fool. However, she had thought that he would be able to tell if a cat was alive or dead.

She had dedicated her Yule to finding a replacement.

Apparently, there were few takers.

It was now the last few days of the holiday and she found herself walking through the halls of Hogwarts once more, heading towards the Headmaster's office. She passed nobody on her route. The gargoyle jumped aside as she approached. Evidently, the Headmaster knew she was here already.

He rose as she entered and bowed his head, "Good afternoon, Madam Black."

"Good afternoon. I trust you received my owl."

"I did, and I must say that I found it most intriguing."

"You have considered my proposal?"

His put his hands together and formed a prism, "I have, but I have formed no conclusion."

"I am more than qualified, I think we can both agree on that point."

He nodded slowly, "I do not deny your expertise or ability, although I believe you have focussed most of your intellectual efforts in history, transfiguration and astronomy."

"Perhaps, but research into the Dark Arts has been another past time."

A small smile passed over his face and their eyes met, "I believe it is a family pursuit?"

"Perhaps."

"And what experience have you in _fighting against_ the Dark Arts?"

"I have survived the reigns of both Lord Voldemort and Grindelwald."

Again, he nodded slowly, "I cannot dispute that fact."

"And you cannot dispute that your current teacher cannot handle a Cornish Pixie and that your last one was an instrument of the Dark Lord."

His blue eyes twinkled, "You would be an improvement, I'm sure."

"Then may I go and evict Lockhart myself?"

He laughed ever-so-slightly, "I believe that duty lies with the Headmaster."

She sneered, "And I'm sure you will remove him with a heavy heart. I have my own conditions, however, Headmaster. I will be bringing my personal house elf, Twinky, to serve my own needs and I will enforce strict discipline in my classroom."

"Alas, I must remind you of Hogwarts rules regarding-"

"-I'm not going to _torture_ them. I simply require them to mind their manners and stand when I enter and leave the room, etc. etc. It's all very basic. It's only what they _ought _to do, what they _used_ to do, before certain people decided to be all namby-pamby with them."

"I've heard you're fond of locking your relatives' offspring in a cupboard with Boggarts."

"It does them good."

"But, regretfully, I cannot allow you to do that here."

"More's the pity, but I accept this."

"Very good." Dumbledore rose and bowed again, "Welcome back to Hogwarts, Professor Black."

...

**A/N - Sorry, I know this is slightly shorter, but I felt it worked best as a stand-alone chapter. Reviews would be wonderful, I really appreciate them. This is my first major deviation from canon, but I didn't resurrect the House of Black to have them sit on the sidelines!**

***Also, Cassiopeia, like most of the wizarding world, believes Voldemort to be a pureblood. Few ever linked the handsome Tom Riddle to the monster, Lord Voldemort.**


	58. Obedience is not a Virtue

**I do not own Harry Potter**

**Trigger warning: mild swearing.**

Chapter Fifty Eight_ Obedience is not a Virtue _

**7****th**** Year DADA – Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff**

"_Tell me, class, have you ever actually opened a textbook?" Cassiopeia paused, "Actually, can any of you even read?"_

**1****st**** Year DADA – Gryffindor and Slytherin**

"_Who would like to explain to me why Gryffindors have the lowest life expectancy, and Slytherins the highest?"_

_Seven eleven year olds gulped. The rest of the class grinned._

**5****th**** Year DADA – Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw**

"_Well, I certainly hope none of you were expecting to pass your OWLS."_

**6****th**** Year DADA – Gryffindor and Slytherin**

"_Tell me, Master Wood, do you plan on living for very long? Because it seems to me that you have a death wish."_

_She raised an eyebrow at the boy's blank face, "I'm referring to your plan of attack as described in your last essay."_

_Oliver Wood frowned, "I don't understand, Professor Black."_

"_Evidently."_

**4****th**** Year DADA – Gryffindor and Slytherin**

"_Ow!" Lee Jordan rubbed the back of his head._

_Cassiopeia tucked the heavy-looking book under her arm. _

"_I do not appreciate tardiness in my class."_

"_But I was on time!"_

_She raised an eyebrow._

"_I mean, but I was on time, Professor Black!"_

"_You were slow to stand up when I walked in. And now you're slow sitting down. Now hurry up, because sadly for you, and most of your classmates, nobody employs wizards who act like flobberworms."_

**1****st**** Year DADA – Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff**

"_Now, class, repeat after me, what is the best defence strategy you can have?"_

"_Only fight the battles you know you can win."_

...

A trio of Gryffindors left the DADA classroom in something of a daze. It was their first lesson back after the Christmas holidays, and in those few weeks, it seemed as though their education had been changed irrevocably.

If they had taken one thing out of the last hour, it was that obedience was not a virtue, it was an obligation.

They had thought, Hermione especially, that they were decent, well-behaved students. Apparently, this was no longer the case. Their posture was defective. Their handwriting was defective. Their annunciation was defective. Their attention-span was defective. Their knowledge was defective, although Professor Black had _ever-so-kindly _conceded that that was not _entirely_ their fault.

Ron shook his head, "She's worse than my Auntie Muriel, and I thought that she was the evillest old bat out there."

Harry nodded, "I mean, I guess she's better than Lockhart-"

"-are you sure about that?"

Harry held out his arm, "Well, I still have all my bones, so I'm going to go with yes, yes she is."

Hermione chewed her lip, "I know that she's very clever, but does she have to be so _rude_?"

"She probably thinks she's doing us a favour." Said Ron.

"She probably does."

"Hag."

Hermione shook her head, "I don't think she's a hag, I just think that she's a little... rough around the ages."

Ron stopped in his tracks, "You do remember what she put in that letter to Black, right?"

"Come on," said Harry, "She's not that far ahead, she might hear us. Let's just go to lunch."

...

Cassiopeia Black had just finished her fourth full day of teaching. She had expected that many of the children would be uncouth, but she had not realised just how dire the situation would be. She had been spoilt, however. Most of the youths that she knew came from the older families. They had all received a classical education, and all the accomplishments that would make them respectable members of society.

She could list her own former students now, and could note, with more than a little pride, that they were among the students who were now most bearable to educate again.

Marcus Flint, who was now a sixth year. He wasn't the most intelligent of students, or the most naturally gifted, but he knew how to deal with authority figures. He sat up straight, he was respectful, and he hid his ignorance well.

Queenie Greengrass and Mercurius Avery, who were both now in their fifth year. Queenie did not share her sister's gift for languages, but she was a sensible, motivated student. Mercurius was a ruthless character, as was his brother, and their intelligence was as ferocious as their attitudes.

Cedric Diggory and Numitor Avery, who were now both fourth years. Cedric was a delight to have in the classroom. Naturally gifted, highly motivated, polite, considerate...

Then, of course, were Draco Malfoy, Daphne Greengrass, Ernst Macmillan, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Ernie held the highest marks within his House, while Daphne, Draco and Maia seemed to have rotated the top three places between them for every essay and test. There was little that could be done for Vincent and Gregory, but perhaps Quidditch might provide them with something akin to a talent.

Although these were of course, not the only bearable children; both of the Nott boys had been raised correctly. The Nott family was as old as the Blacks, and both Theodore and Bertram were calm and collected boys, who conducted themselves with dignity. She suspected the younger of two as having childish tendencies, but he was reserved and studious when it mattered, at least.

Cassiopeia sat down at her desk and began to read through a stack of fourth year essays. She had no trouble awarding both Cedric and Numitor an 'O'. The fact that both of them had utilised a number of primary sources in the original Latin was impressive, but it was what she had taught them to do in the first place. Languages were useful. They showed intelligence, diligence and that the family could afford to hire multiple tutors for their children. Languages were a mark of good breeding.

She sighed and looked at the clock on the wall. It was getting late, so she summoned Twinky to bring her a strong cup of tea. She still had work to be done. It was rather odd for someone of her means to be undertaking paid employment, but it was for the good of the school and would, perhaps, convince Caroline that her opinions were not quite so aberrant as they sometimes appeared.

She moved on to a paper that was written in so much of the rush that half of it was ineligible. She wrote a 'D' on the top of the paper before noticing that it was written by a Weasley. That was exactly what she would have expected from one of their ilk.

She sighed. She wished that she could go home and have her life back. Of course, she had come here voluntarily, but only to try and bring Caroline round, and because she could not look on while Lockhart spread ignorance and vanity among the next generation.

Some of the next generation were surprisingly competent. She was particularly impressed by Hermione Granger, from whom she had expected the worst. The girl was well-read, dedicated and through in her studies. If she could be a little more creative, she would be the perfect student. As it was, she came very close. She was top of Gryffindor and top of her year for DADA. It was the same for every other subject except Potions, where so far this year Maia had ranked above her by one point. Miss Granger was also rather polite and had manners that, while not as polished as they _could_ be, were nevertheless acceptable. A few Ravenclaw half bloods and muggleborns were also tolerably pleasing, and Susan Bones had talent that would one day lead her to follow in her aunt's footsteps.

She looked back at the stack of papers and rolled her eyes. She hoped that the next effort would be better. She lifted the next essay from the pile. It was written by the twin. Oh Salazer, give me strength, she thought.

...

Tonks finished the last line of her report and signed her name. She stood up and walked round to Moody's desk, tripping over the waste paper basket on her way.

"You'll get someone killed if you don't learn how to walk in a straight line." Snapped Moody. Both his magical and non-magical eyes looked up from his desk and centred on a blushing Tonks.

"Sorry, sir. If I do, I'll try and make sure that that's someone's me."

"It never works that way. You never get yourself killed, it's always someone else."

Tonks straightened up and handed the report over.

"Oh joy, more paperwork. If I'd have known it would come to this, I would've joined as a pen-pusher in the first place and kept my nose."

Tonks watched as he glanced over the report. Her mentorship under Alastor Moody had been... enlightening. She was an easy-going person, and she tried to find the silver lining at the end of every day. However, with a taskmaster like Moody, finding that lining was sometimes very difficult. Still, he was the very best at what he did and learning under someone like _him_ was an opportunity for which many cadets would chew their wand arms off, and their noses as well.

He looked back up, "Why did you enlist, Cadet Tonks?"

She paused and opened her mouth, before realising that she had nothing to say and closing it again quickly. Oh Merlin, he was still staring at her! This question had stumped her all the way through the application process. Of course, she'd read plenty of sample answers when she'd been preparing, but all of them had tasted like lies when she'd tried to voice them herself. The truth, in fact, was that it was some sort of gut instinct that had driven her towards the Auror leaflets when Sprout had handed out careers advice, and gut feeling which had carried her this far.

"I don't know, sir." She said. At least she didn't shrug, but she was a great believer in honesty and she was not about to lie to the greatest Auror who had ever lived.

"What do you mean, you don't know, cadet?"

She shifted her weight from one foot to another, noting that a couple of other Aurors had looked up from their desks to hear her answer and were now smirking at one another. Yet another cadet was about to be eaten alive and spat out by the legendary Alastor Moody.

"I mean, I don't have a clear-cut reason, sir. I know that it's a prestigious job, and I know that it's an honour to serve my country. I know that pay's fair and I know there's a clear path of career progression and a good pension. It's just that, none of those things appeal to me. I just wanted to be an Auror. I wanted to prove that I could and I wanted to do it because, for me, I knew that nothing else could ever compare to it."

"Go on." He was glaring at her again.

"I know my surname's Tonks, but I'm half Black. I know what my family did during the war and I went to school with the children of their victims. It never sat right with me, even though I knew the guilt wasn't my own. I guess I just wanted to try and do some good. I don't care about pay or paperwork, they're both bloody boring, sir, too much maths if you ask me, I just wanted to be an Auror, on the front line."

She shrugged this time. Everyone else had gotten bored and gone back to her work, but Moody was still staring at her. Then, he reached across the desk and pulled out another file.

"Read all of this, and come back and tell me how you think we should proceed."

...

Lucius Malfoy left the office of Cornelius Fudge, nodded politely in the direction of Dolores Umbridge, and took his cloak from a nervous-looking secretary.

"Good day, Mr. Malfoy." She said.

He did not respond.

He smirked to himself as he strode down the corridor. Being forced to side against Druella and Irma last month had not sat well with him. That half blood slip of a girl had no right to take inheritance from _his_ son. And yet she had. Again.

However, now he had something that would put a smile on his face. His meetings with the Minister were progressing well. Fudge, easily flattered, did not take much convincing to see that Dumbledore was not fit to run Hogwarts. He'd also dug up all the old records from the last attack, and the Minister was not pleased to find that the previous perpetrator still resided within the school's grounds.

He would see that muggle and mudblood loving old man, and that filthy half-breed, removed from the school within the year. It was something he had dreamed of since he became a Governor, nay, since he was a schoolboy himself. And, of course, it would please Cassiopeia. She would never think to question him, to doubt him, when he championed her cause.

Lies and secrets are easy to bury, if you know how, he thought.

...

**A/N – I hope you enjoyed this chapter, thank you to everyone has reviewed. I love to know what everyone thinks of the story, it's the only way that I'll improve it for you, after all! **

**KoshKing777 – Thank you for such a long review, I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I completely agree with you about the Sirius one-shots, but I don't want to forget about him, and I'm not quite sure what else to do with him when he's on his own in a cell. Oh well, it's not long now until he escapes...**

**I'd answer more reviews here, but I don't want to give away spoilers! : )**

**The next update will be posted next Sunday. **


	59. Trust Lost and Lost Again

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Fifty Nine_ Trust Lost and Lost Again_

Cassiopeia recognised the seal, and did not open in at the breakfast table. She did not trust McGonagall to read over her shoulder. Instead, she kept the letter in her pocket and opened it that evening after dinner. A dinner which had been distinctly unpleasant.

Some Gryffindor brats – including the Finnegan who had duelled with Maia – had had a food fight. Such vulgarity had, quite understandably, caused her to lose her appetite and had highlighted the shame Maia must have felt, to have lost to one such as him. He was very 'of the people'.

Pushing the thought aside, she sat down in her chair beside the fireplace and broke the Malfoy seal.

The letter was vague, infuriatingly so. The only thing Lucius made clear was that he was working to further what he termed to be 'their combined interests'. She shook her head and placed it aside. Lucius had shown himself to be a skilled diplomatic and manipulator over the last few years. Money alone would not have made the Death Eater charge go away. She only hoped that he remembered this, that he remembered the importance of discretion.

Of course, the Houses of Black and Malfoy would get their own way in the end, but they played a long game.

She had waited months to remove the werewolf.

She had spent years slowly, drop by drop, showing Maia the way the world worked. As her birth parents would have done, or at least, how her father would have done.

And now, slowly, she would win Caroline back.

And she hoped that Lucius would not get carried away and ruin everything.

She stood up and walked to her writing desk. She would write to Narcissa, and get the specifics of Lucius' plan from her.

Narcissa was, after all, a Black by blood.

...

"Wasn't this where we were going to brew the potion?" said Ron, looking down at the puddle on the floor.

Hermione pursed her lips, "Yes, it looks like Myrtle's had another tantrum."

Together, the trio walked into the bathroom. The water sloshed around their ankles and seeped up their robes. Hermione tried to reason with the wailing ghost, who only wailed louder when she heard Ron's not-so-quiet comment that he was pleased they hadn't spent their Christmas in here with her, huddled over some illegal potion.

As Myrtle's wails continued, Harry edged forward and picked up a dark blue diary...

...

Tonks sighed, looking down at the non-descript brown file in front of her. It was reasonably thick, but that wasn't her problem. Her problem was its contents.

She pointed her wand at her almost-empty mug and watched as it re-filled itself with coffee. Coffee was not a particularly popular drink in the Auror Office, the Ministry, or anywhere else within England, or the entirety of Great Britain. Theirs' was, after all, a nation built on tea.

However, every now and then, an Englishman or woman would just need that extra bit of caffeine. They would sneakily make themselves the accursed drink, and swallow it quickly before anyone could notice their treachery. For Tonks, this was one of those moments.

She drank her coffee quickly and leant back in her chair, waiting for it to kick in. She'd stopped looking at her clock, because it was now so far past normal working hours that she didn't want to think about it. Still, the Auror Office was surprisingly busy. Well, it would have been surprising had this been any other department. It was a well known fact that most Aurors were workaholics.

Tonks, however, was not a workaholic and wanted nothing more than to go home.

And she'd been so pleased to escape after Yule. And that was less than a month ago...

She shook her head to clear her thoughts.

It wasn't as if she was working, per se. She had finished reading the file hours ago. Her problem was deciding on a course of action. She knew what she was supposed to do, she knew what procedure said she was supposed to follow, but her gut told her that procedure was wrong. She sighed and flipped the file over again. Perhaps re-reading it one more time would help her decide what to do. The red-lettering stamped on the front of the file caught her eye yet again:

REMUS JOHN LUPIN

...

The months went by eventfully for the Golden Trio, though there were no more attacks. The three friends decided to keep both the diary and it's revelations a secret, even after Harry's room was ransacked and the diary stolen.

While the two boys desperately thought of suspects other than Hagrid – adamant that their good friend was innocent – Hermione continued her research in the library. Going through the books on her own was time consuming, and she had no one with whom she could debate her theories and ideas. Of course, she knew that she was intelligent enough not to need help. She knew that she worked faster, more diligently and with more enthusiasm than Black. But those few days with a partner – even one like Black – had made her task less lonesome.

Her dilemma, thus far, was that any serpent capable of causing this much damage was too large to move around the castle unseen. Even if Harry was the only one who could hear it, everyone would be able to see it.

But Harry couldn't see it either?

What sort of spell would make such a snake invisible?

It would be far too large for a standard disillusionment charm.

And then she remembered Harry running along the walls, swearing he could hear a voice...

_Pipes_

...

Caroline squeezed Maia's hand, even though she knew that her daughter couldn't feel anything, even though she knew that Maia didn't even know she was there.

None of the other parents were visiting today, as it was not one of Cassiopeia's pre-arranged trips. Luckily, she now had Remus to bring her. She'd told him that he was more than welcome to stay, but his shifts at the library had not allowed him to do so. He would pick her up during his lunch break.

Cassiopeia had been very kind to arrange the trips for the muggle parents...

Caroline had wondered why the school was so empty, but apparently there was a Quidditch match, according to Professor Snape. Another thing Maia was missing out on. Who was playing in her place?

She went back to telling her lifeless daughter about everything that was going on in her life, omitting the argument with Cassiopeia. She wouldn't tell her anything sad. Caroline didn't care how many times the school nurse told her that Maia couldn't hear a thing, she still spoke to her daughter and sang songs to her like she had when Maia was just a baby. This sort of thing was recommended for muggle coma patients, and Caroline would hold on to every shred of hope she had.

The doors opened and Cassiopeia walked in, a green and silver scarf draped around her neck. "Good morning, Caroline."

Caroline looked up and let go of Maia's hand, "Good morning, Cassiopeia." Her voice was unusually cold.

This was the first time they had spoken since Caroline had left.

Cassiopeia began to walk towards Maia's bedside, "I trust you are well."

"Perfectly well, thank you. And yourself?"

"I have nothing to complain about." said Cassiopeia, as she stopped at the end of Maia's bed. "Today was not a visiting day."

"I made my own arrangements."

Cassiopeia nodded, "The mandrakes are growing well. We should not have to wait much longer for the potion."

"And do you intend to be there when Maia is revived?"

"I should like to be."

Caroline shook her head, "I'm sorry, but I'd prefer that you weren't. I would like to speak to Maia myself, first."

"For her, nothing has changed-"

Cassiopeia was cut off as the doors to the Hospital Wing were flung open, swinging round and hitting the walls either side with a 'bang'. Professors McGonagall and Snape rushed in, levitating two frozen bodies.

Caroline's hand flew up to cover her mouth, "Oh goodness, no."

McGonagall turned to see both her and Cassiopeia, "I must go and cancel the match-"

"No," Cassiopeia shook her head and looked over at the two girls, "I shall cancel it. You and Professor Flitwick must contact the girls' families as soon as possible. Professor Snape and I shall deal with the match."

Caroline stood up, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

McGonagall nodded, "Perhaps you could wait for the families, they might appreciate a fellow muggle, not a witch or wizard, given the situation."

"Of course."

...

That evening, Caroline sat at home flicking through the various channels on her television set. There was nothing that could catch her attention, yet alone hold it. The monotony of the activity, however, dulled the anxiety that had been troubling her all day. Opposite her, Remus held a book. He wasn't reading it. He hadn't turned the pages for at least thirty minutes. Trixie found relief in activity and was cleaning the entire apartment.

It was just horrible to think that another two families were now feeling the pain that they had felt for so many months. It was just horrible to think that despite Ministry intervention, nothing had been achieved to keep these poor, innocent children safe.

The Clearwaters had not stayed long, only long enough to realise that, for them, watching their lifeless daughter bought them no comfort. The Grangers had stayed most of the day, and Caroline had tried to provide them with as much support as she could. She found the couple – Mark and Alice – to be very friendly and surprisingly well-informed about the wizarding world. Apparently they had researched it with their daughter after she received her Hogwarts letter. They told her that Hermione had written home about Maia on a number of occasions this year, and the parents discussed that it was nice that the two children had made up after the argument that had been well-documented in their correspondence from the previous year. They had spent the day talking of this and that, trying to distract each other from the reality of the situation, and making plans for when the children were revived. They had even discussed the possibility of sharing tutors over the summer, as neither girl would want to fall behind.

Caroline sighed as she finally settled on watching _Have I Got News For You _and decided that there had been far too much drama in these past months; the Petrifications, Remus, Cassiopeia...

She sighed again, ignoring as the men on screen as they debated and argued with each other. She could not decide what to make of Cassiopeia. She had done so much in recent months to help the muggleborns... She had even taken it upon herself to teach the students...

But how could she be sure that it was not just another act?

Again?

...

**I managed to get this up before Sunday! : ) **


	60. A Little Integrity

**I do not own Harry Potter. As has been the case for the last fifty nine chapters, this story belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

**Trigger warning: minor swearing**

'A little integrity is better than any career' – Ralph Waldo Emmerson

Chapter Sixty_ A Little Integrity _

_A Few Months Earlier, in January... _

Tonks' hair turned from bright green to light brown as she made the walk from her own desk to Moody's. She'd finally come to her decision late last night, before going home to have far too few hours sleep. Not before her mother had complained about her late-night comings and goings. Really, anyone would think that she'd been down the pub, rather than at her desk...

Tonks shook her head. She couldn't believe she was thinking about her mother when she was about to hit the self-destruct button on her career.

She didn't know what the older man – the legend – in front of her would make of what she was about to say, but she was going to say it regardless. If she had to abandon her morals and principles before she was even fully qualified, then she would be forced to rethink her dream of becoming an Auror. She wondered briefly, once again, why he wanted a verbal report and not a written one, but before her thoughts could go any further, Moody interrupted them.

"So, what is your analysis, cadet?"

"That the proposals made within this document are unjust."

"Explain yourself."

"Remus Lupin is a man, not a beast. He can't just be rounded up by us like muggles round up stray dogs. He hasn't even done anything wrong, not by laws that govern wizards."

"But he's not governed by the laws of wizards, he's governed by the regulations for the control of magical creatures."

"On paper, perhaps." She said, clasping her hands behind her back. She felt, oddly, as if she ought to be standing to attention. She'd be standing to attention in Kirkwood's office before the day was out, sure enough, after what she was saying and implying. She'd be given her marching orders, no doubts about it. She thought about back-tracking, back-peddling, doing everything she could to salvage her position. But if her mentor – if this legend – agreed with the document, then this was not what she wanted from her life.

"On paper?" said Moody.

"Yes, it's very easy to write something on paper. Real life isn't written down."

"So, what would you have me do?"

"I beg your pardon, sir?"

"If you had to make a call on what to do about Mr. Lupin's situation, what would you do?"

...

Tonks grimaced at her boring reflection in the window. Moody had told her that she had to appear inconspicuous. It was easy enough to achieve, of course, but that didn't mean she had to like it. Moody who, with his wooden leg, magical eye and generally intimidating demeanour, could do nothing but draw attention to himself, was under an invisibility cloak.

She pushed the door of the library open and walked in. It was mainly empty, but a few elderly couples browsed the shelves. It didn't take her long to spot him. He had a friendly smile, as he reached up to the top shelf and picked out a selection of books for a customer who couldn't quite reach. He chatted to the woman easily, before carrying her books to the desk himself.

Tonks joined the queue with her invisible companion by her side. Moody silently confounded the muggles behind them, who slowly drifted back to the book shelves, looking a little dazed.

When her turn came, she leant over the desk, "Mr. Lupin, my name is Nymphadora Tonks, though please just call me Tonks because who, in their right mind, would want to be called Nymphadora-" next to her, Moody growled and Remus and Tonks both glanced in his direction. Tonks rolled her eyes and smiled, "Sorry, sir. Anyway, Mr. Lupin, could _we_ speak to you out back, quickly, if you don't mind."

Remus nodded, glancing at the seemingly empty air next to the woman. Tonks saw his hand twitch towards his wand, but he turned and gestured for them to follow him.

The small room out back was empty, and Remus drew his wand and spun round, and found himself facing down Tonk's wand already.

"Oh please, Mr. Lupin," she said, grinning, "I'm much younger than you, old man. You can't beat my reflexes."

"I don't care, what are you people doing here? Who are you working for?"

Moody pulled off the cloak and tossed in onto a nearby chair. "Really, Remus, you know as well as I that if we were working for Voldemort, we'd have blown this place up rather than wasting our time talking to you."

Remus laughed, put away his wand, and walked over to Moody. The two men shook hands, "Alastor, the same as ever. I should have realised it was you."

Tonks looked from one man to the other, "You two know each other? Then what was all of this about, sir?"

Remus laughed and walked over the kettle to make a batch of tea. "So you're a sir now?"

Moody sat down, "Well, I like to keep the newbies in line, you know. Respect and intimidation all that."

"I don't doubt it." Said Remus, he turned to Tonks, "How do you like your tea?"

"Milk and two sugars."

Both Moody and Remus pulled a face. "How can you take _two_?"

"I like my tea sweet."

Remus shook his head, and Tonks turned back to Moody, "So if you know him, what was all this about?"

Moody took his tea from Remus, "Call it a test of character, Cadet Tonks. And you'll be pleased to hear that you passed with flying colours."

"Great." She said sarcastically, taking her own tea from Remus and sipping it. "So you put me through all this for nothing? I lost sleep thinking you were going to report me, that I was going to be fired."

"If it was easy, then it wouldn't be a test."

Tonks shrugged. "Still, you could have dropped a hint."

Remus sat down on a battered-looking sofa. "Much as I appreciate both of you dropping in, I get the feeling this isn't a social call. Anybody mind telling me what's going on?"

Moody took another sip of his tea, "I'm sorry, Remus, but I'm afraid you've come to the Ministry's attention."

Remus' face turned grim and he put his tea down on the desk. He pushed a hand through his hair. "How long have I got?"

"I don't know, a few days, a few weeks, a few months? They spend so much bloody time on paperwork these days that it's hard to tell."

"How did you find out?"

"I make it my business to keep an eye out for the Order."

Tonks frowned, but made no comment. She had heard of the Order of the Phoenix, and knew that Moody had been a member, but very little was known about its activities and even less about its membership. She felt a new level of respect for the man opposite her.

"If I were classed as a wizard... as a being..."

"I'm sorry." The words were out before Tonks even realised, and Remus looked up sharply.

"Why are you apologising, it's not your fault?"

She shrugged, "I can't help but feel bad. You're not doing anything wrong, not really. You don't deserve this."

"I don't want pity." His tone was uncharacteristically hard.

"It's not pity, Mr. Lupin, it's just that there's no other way to phrase it."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to snap."

"Don't worry, I've got thick skin, courtesy of Senior Auror Moody here."

Remus laughed weakly, "So, what laws have I broken?"

"Not registering your address with the Ministry – they've had some trouble finding you, good lad – living within ten miles of a populated muggle area, working without submitting your Beast Status to your employer –"

"But my employer's a muggle!-"

Moody shrugged and continued, "being employed by a muggle and endangering the Statute of Secrecy, that one's new. Umbridge only created it last month."

"I hate that woman." Said Remus and Tonks at the same time. They smiled at each other.

Moody shrugged, "Apparently werewolves working with muggles endangers the Statute. Something about animal-like tendencies..."

"So I need to vanish, again."

"I'm afraid so, Remus."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Stop being so damn proud and write to Dumbledore, you know he owes you. He must do, after all these years."

...

Caroline and Trixie were having a light supper before they both retired for the night. When they heard a knock of the door, Trixie vanished with a small 'pop' and Caroline hid the evidence of a second meal before putting the chain on the door and opening it slightly.

When she saw Remus Lupin standing in front of her, threadbare suitcase in hand, soaked to the skin from the rain, she gasped.

"I'm so sorry, Caroline, but do you mind if I stay for a while?"

She took the chain off and opened the door, "You're welcome to stay for as long as you need."

...

_Present day, in March..._

A large 'bang' made the entire Auror Office look up from their cluttered desks and piles of paperwork. Head Auror Constance Kirkwood stood in the centre of the room, her wand still raised.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it falls to me to inform you that there has been a further attack, a double attack, within Hogwarts School. Effective immediately, all Aurors are to be pulled from any non-urgent investigations and re-assigned to the Hogwarts Case."

She waved her wand and an envelope appeared before each Auror and Cadet.

"You should have now received your new posts. Get to work."

Kirkwood turned on her heel and marched back towards her office, slamming her door behind her. The hush that had fallen across the office was broken immediately. Another cadet, Megan Peters, leant back over her chair and nudged Tonks.

"What did you get? Apparently I'm with Auror Kingsley, interviewing upper-year students."

Tonks shrugged, "Haven't opened it yet."

Megan watched as Tonks reached forward and opened the letter:

MY OFFICE. NOW.

Slowly, Tonks stood up from her desk. With the note clutched tightly in her hand, she walked across the room towards Kirkwood's office. For one reason or another, the walk seemed far longer than it ought to, and she felt oddly exposed. Moody was leaning against the wall outside the office, looking more annoyed than anything else.

Tonks was about to knock on the door, when Moody pushed it open and walked in. Deciding that it was better to get this over with than waste time worrying, she followed him.

"Would either of you like to tell me why you're here?"

Tonks glanced at Moody, who growled, "Why don't you enlighten us, Kirkwood?"

"It's Head Auror Kirkwood to you Senior Auror Moody."

"I was out catching Dark wizards when you were still learning to brew a boil-curing solution, girl."

Kirkwood leant back in her chair and raised an eyebrow, regarding the pair. "Cadet Tonks, how do you feel Senior Auror Moody has performed in his duties as a mentor?"

The question was completely out of the blue.

"Senior Auror Moody has been a very educational and inspiring mentor, ma'am. It's an honour to have served with him."

"Are you quite sure that's the answer you want me to write in my report, Cadet?"

"I couldn't answer the question in any other way, without considering myself to have been dishonest, ma'am."

Kirkwood's nostrils flared slightly, "How noble, Cadet. And I was informed that you went to Hufflepuff."

"Nobility and loyalty aren't that far removed from each other, _Head Auror_ Kirkwood. You were a Ravenclaw yourself, I believe?" snapped Moody.

"I'm sure you know my file inside out, _Senior Auror_ Moody, as you do for everyone else in this department. It's one of your habits, and only one of them, which leads me to question your suitability to continue with the Aurors. And," she said, turning to Tonks, "_your_ inability to discern the fact that procedures are made to be followed which makes me question if the Auror Office is the correct career path for you."

Tonks squared her jaw, and out of the corner of her eye, she was sure that she saw Moody smirk. She wasn't ashamed of what she had done, and she wasn't going to let anyone, even her boss, make her doubt herself or her motives.

"I assume you both know what I'm talking about."

"Remus Lupin is not a criminal, and you people have no right to make him into one." Snapped Moody.

"You people? _You people_?" cried Kirkwood, smiling sarcastically as she threw her arms into the air, "And here I was thinking that we were all on the same side!"

"No we're not, _you people_ have turned this Office into a bunch of form-filling Imperiai who will do what they're told without question, and who won't do anything at all without wasting six weeks writing about it first."

"Our procedures are put in place to ensure reliability, transparency and accountability. I respect and admire everything you did during the war, Senior Auror Moody, but those days are over. We aren't dealing with the same threats; we can't be seen to use Unforgivables with impunity anymore! Either you accept that, or I have to strongly suggest that you have a good look at your retirement plan!" Kirkwood was shouting now and had stood up; she leant across her desk with her palms resting on the smooth wooden surface. Her knuckles were white.

"I am running a department where we provide a service that the wizarding world can look at and say, 'I trust them'. If that means that a werewolf gets hauled in for questioning, then a werewolf gets hauled in for questing. The laws are made to be followed, and Remus Lupin did not follow them. If he had, then we would not be having this conversation."

"But those laws are completely unjust!"

Kirkwood slowly turned to face Tonks, "That it an opinion, not a fact, and I must remind you that Aurors are not allowed to let their political beliefs cloud their judgement in their execution of the law."

Kirkwood sat back in her chair, "I'm reluctant to lose two Aurors in one day, especially one who has given our nation such a high level of service throughout his career, and another who has the potential to follow in his footsteps."

She shuffled the papers on her desk and pulled out two sheets of parchment, "Senior Auror Moody," she said, handing the first to him, "this is your resignation letter stating that you believe the time has come for you to retire. You may not believe me, but I am sorry to do this. I don't want to, but if you remain I will be forced to order an inquiry as to how Remus Lupin knew to 'disappear' and I don't want to bring you, or our department, into disrepute. I have the highest respect for you, Senior Auror Moody, and I have admired your continued struggle against the Dark Arts throughout my life. I truly wish that it had not come to this, I truly do."

"And you couldn't just make this 'go away'?" growled Moody sarcastically.

"Not in good conscience. Not with the integrity I would want in a Head. I can only judge myself by the standards I judge others."

Moody took the letter from her, "It's a load of tosh, but I always knew it would come to this." He stamped out of the room, his wooden leg thudding behind him.

Kirkwood turned to Tonks, "I hope you can appreciate the position that I'm in."

Tonks nodded. She did understand. In their own way, both Kirkwood and Moody were right. Fundamentally, they were both on the same side. Fundamentally, they both stood for integrity and self-respect. The only spanner in the works was the fact that they applied their principles to their daily lives in fundamentally different ways.

"Good. Cadet Tonks, I am docking you three days leave for reckless behaviour. Following Senior Auror Moody's resignation, you will be re-assigned to Auror Diggory. He's a former Hufflepuff and a good man. I wish you all the best in your career and I expect good things from you in the future, Cadet. I sincerely hope that you are tough enough to stick the rest of it out."

"Thank you ma'am. I hope so as well."

"Very well. Cadet, you're dismissed."

...

A few days later, Tonks excused herself from a conversation with Auror Diggory and walked over to Moody. He was violently slamming the objects on his desk into boxes and shrinking them at speed. Most Aurors were giving him a wide berth. He'd already walked into Kirkwood's office and blown up all her potted plants.

"Don't go expecting an emotional farewell, girl."

"I wasn't, sir."

"There's no need to go bothering with those formalities now, Tonks. There never was any need to 'sir' me to start with, I work for a living."

Tonks leant against his desk, "I just wanted to say that I'd have still gone with you, even if it meant that I was packing my boxes as well right now."

Moody looked up sharply, "I don't doubt that, but I'm glad you're not."

Tonks couldn't hide her surprise.

"It may come as shock to you, but I happen to agree with every word Kirkwood said about you. You do have great potential, as long as you learn to walk in a straight line. You've got a good moral compass, and don't let their _procedures_ ever make you doubt it, Tonks. If your gut tells you something, it tells you something, and it's worth ten times more than any memo Admin sends you, do you hear?"

"Yes..." She wasn't sure how to end here phrases now, without the 'sir'.

Moody smirked, "Call me Mad Eye."

"Yes, Mad Eye."

"Good. Now clear off, I'm packing."

"Yes, Mad Eye!" She said with a bright smile and a mock salute.

...

**This is a very Tonks-centric chapter, but I've always right to write about as much of the House of Black as I could. I hope you liked it – let me know either way! : ) **

**Also, thank you to Annaisadinosaur, who wrote the two hundredth review for my story! : ) **

**Thank you to everyone else who also wrote a review. I've had some really great feedback over the last few days. I do hope that I've managed to make Maia balanced enough that she's not a Mary Sue. She doesn't actually get that much use out of her Seer abilities, and they have backfired on her, quite spectacularly, this year. Any comments and constructive criticism are always welcome. **

**Sorry for the long A/N. **


	61. The Paths Diverge

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Sixty One_ The Paths Diverge _

The gates swung open before Lucius, and he climbed into the waiting carriage. The black, scaly skin of the Thestral took on an eerie sheen in the moonlight. He held his cane tightly as the carriage rolled smoothly up towards the school.

Sometimes, he wondered if he were a very clever, or a very foolish man. He had to be one or the other, because, when he looked back on his life thus far, he knew that he had done nothing by halves. His reasons for taking on Dumbledore were many and varied, but the over-riding motivation was that he hated the old fool and everything he stood for.

Usually, Cassiopeia could be relied upon to feel the same.

But, now that he thought about it, something had been wrong with Cassiopeia for years. She had always been a blood-purist. Always. And yet, ever since that Squib-spawned brat had turned up, she had been constantly turning her back on everything for which she had always claimed to stand.

He could not remove her.

He could not defy her.

He could not replace Maia with Draco as he ought.

But by Salazar, he would win this one point, or be damned trying.

...

Once again, Cassiopeia Black found herself marking essays. Her candles had almost burned themselves out and the shadows in her room were so long it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended.

A sharp knock at her door made her look up quickly, "Enter."

For a change, she had a welcome visitor.

"Lucius, it is good to see you. You have no idea how I have suffered for want of good company these last few months."

Lucius smiled and bowed, "Then it is an extra pleasure to see you, knowing that I can be of service."

"You are as eloquent and polished as ever, Lucius. It is good that these trying months have not dimmed you. Please," she said, motioning with her hand, "be seated."

He strode into the room and sat down, without removing his heavy, expensive travelling cloak. "You know, of course, that this is not a social call."

"Oh, dear Lucius, I am well aware of that."

He inclined his head, "That does not mean that we can forgo our pleasantries, how does young Maia fare?"

"She remains unchanged, as you are well aware."

"I know how you dislike superfluous questions, but it would be ill-mannered of me not to ask."

"I know. I can tell you that Draco is doing very well in his studies."

"As well as he ought?"

"Naturally, remember who teaches him."

Lucius laughed. "True. Have you managed to re-establish contact with Caroline?"

"No, I have not spoken to her since the last pair of muggleborns were Petrified. Our conversation then was fairly cordial, so that is a promising foundation for future communication."

"But you must realise that it will be much harder to train and prepare Maia, if Caroline does not give her consent, or allow you sufficient access?"

"Of course I do, Lucius, but Maia is not yet awake. If I cannot bring Caroline around before that occurs, we may find that she still insists on defying her mother and maintaining contact on her own terms."

"You think that her loyalty is that strong?"

"Almost everything she has in this world, her position, her education, her family and her friends, comes from the House of Black. She would not forsake us so easily, not on the word of her mother."

Lucius glanced out of the window, looking out onto the darkened grounds. "I am here to conduct our business relating to the Chamber of Secrets."

"Have you news from the Aurors? Have they uncovered anything?" Her voice could not hide her hope. She knew, straight away from the look on Lucius' face, that her hope was futile. She should not have allowed herself to hope. After the double attack, she had watched the Aurors question every student, only to establish that none of the students knew what was going on. Apparently, the magic was beyond the capabilities of any of them anyway, which lead the Aurors to believe that the attacks were being co-ordinated by a Dark practitioner outside of the walls of Hogwarts.

"No, but I do have some news, good news, in fact. I will soon be joined by the Minister for Magic, and we will be removing the two most dangerous elements from this school."

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

"The first is Rebus Hagrid."

"The half-breed?"

"Yes, he was implicated in the attacks fifty years ago."

"Was he guilty?"

"Of course not, the oaf wouldn't have the skill, but you can hardly claim to be saddened by his departure."

"No, I cannot. I approve entirely. So, who is the second?"

"Albus Dumbledore."

Cassiopeia stood up, sweeping the books and quills and ink and parchment desk with one violent swing of her hand, "Lucius Malfoy, are you _insane_?"

Lucius stood up, "I _beg_ your pardon?" Although he had anticipated this, naturally. But all interaction was generally an act on one side, at least, or all of them. Lies were the stuff that made the world turn. Not love, not money, but lies.

"You heard me perfectly well, Lucius, are you insane? What were you thinking? What did you have to do to bring that about? Bribe, bully and blackmail _every_ member of the Board of Governors?"

"And I achieved my goal. That is how _we_ operate, is it not? The only remaining signature that I require is your own."

"But the backlash! Lucius, you must realise that you will never make this stick! I hate Dumbledore as much as the next respectable blood-purist, but we must be logical! We cannot remove him, he is too popular. He holds as much power as us, and is far better liked. Of course, I care more for respect and deference than popularity, but we should not discount the whims of the general public. Once galvanised into action, the masses can be the most destructive force known to wizardkind!"

"They will never stand, they prefer to cower." He said coldly.

"The times are changing, Lucius. I have been alive long enough to recognise this. Albus Dumbledore is their hero, they will not stand by if he is targeted. And let us not forget that he is the most powerful force the Light possesses, if these attacks are co-ordinated by the Dark, his presence may be the one thing which is holding the attacker back! I get no joy from admitting that, but it may very well be true!"

Lucius walked over and placed a sheet of parchment on her desk, "I beg to differ on all counts. And I have every name but yours."

He waved his wand and a quill and inkwell appeared on Cassiopeia's desk.

"You may have kept me out of Azkaban, but I have paid you more than a decade of penance, and it's wearing on my patience."

"You owe me _everything_." She spat, her hands shaking.

"You can do this willingly, or I can find something to blackmail you with. It shouldn't be too hard. You have many more weaknesses than you did ten years ago; two come to my mind straight away."

"You wouldn't _dare_ to touch them."

Lucius pulled up the sleeve covering his left forearm, "Don't ask me what I wouldn't _dare_ to do, Cassiopeia."

"This changes things between us, Lucius."

"You have no idea what has driven me to this. You have no idea what I have given up."

"Tell me."

He smirked, "You don't want to know."

"I'll find out eventually."

"Of that, I have no doubt, but I strongly suggest you sign that parchment."

Cassiopeia glared at him, and, with a sick feeling in her stomach, signed the parchment.

Her hand wasn't steady.

Whatever Lucius was doing, he now had his own agenda.

The House of Malfoy and the House of Black were no longer one.

...

The days, weeks and months gradually rolled by and the school year was coming close to its close, while the five Petrified students, Sir Nicholas and Mrs. Norris remained Petrified in the Hospital Wing. The Houses of Black and Malfoy continued to present the same united face to the world as they had since the marriage of Narcissa and Lucius – which had contractually unified the families – but in private, relations were strained. Narcissa and her aunt remained on the same cordial terms, and neither her husband or her aunt informed her of what had passed between them, but Cassiopeia and Lucius no longer turned their backs when the other was around.

But the rest of the world carried on, oblivious.

Two boys who were particularly oblivious to the political, diplomatic and familial concerns of ancient and pureblood Houses were Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, because, these two boys had been having a number of adventures of their own over the past few months.

A diary, uncovered in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, had told them secrets from fifty years before.

The secrets, which had directed them to Hagrid, had eventually caused them to hide, under the cloak, as Mr. Malfoy and Minister Fudge removed both the Gamekeeper and the Headmaster from the school.

Hagrid's parting clue had sent them deep into the Forbidden Forest, where they had almost been eaten by giant spiders. Harry wasn't sure if Ron would ever really forgive him for that.

And now, as the school was under the strictest security measures ever known to the students, teachers or the portraits, Harry Potter had an idea. A completely unworkable, absolutely ridiculous idea.

"We can't just give Black the slip, Harry, she's not like Lockhart! I swear the old bat has eyes in the back of her head! She'll kill us!"

Harry slowed down even further, "Yes, but Moaning Myrtle might be the only person who can tell us anything that happened to Hermione. You heard what Aragog said, _the last victim died in a bathroom_!"

"You know what Harry, I wasn't listening to him, _I_ was too busy looking at all those legs! And the fangs!"

Harry grabbed hold of Ron's arm, slowing them both down further as Professor Black turned around a corner, dutifully followed by the rest of their class. "Now!" he whispered and the two boys turned and ran headlong back the way they had come.

They set off in the direction of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, when they came to a sudden halt.

"I suppose I should not be surprised, Potter, Weasley, at your stupidity. Did you really think that you could 'give me the slip', as they say?"

The two boys hung their heads, when a sudden burst of inspiration took hold of Harry. "We're sorry, Professor Black, but you see we really-"

"Do you think that I intend to listen to your excuses, Mr. Potter?"

"No, Professor."

She tilted her heads at the two boys, "It does not take a genius to work out what you are about." She paused, and the two boys looked up at her worriedly.

However, although they would never again admit to it, and although they were at the time both very sure it was only their own hope playing tricks with their eyes, they both thought that they saw a hint of pity in Professor Black's eyes.

"You were attempting to visit Miss. Granger, were you not?"

They nodded slowly, and neither dared to look at the other.

"Well, I must take ten points each from Gryffindor-"

"-but Professor!-"

"Make that fifteen for Master Weasley."

Both Ron and Harry had outrage written across their faces.

"Do not look at me like that, children. Your actions were reckless and stupid. You could have started a school-wide panic had you simply vanished in the corridors. You could have endangered the lives of yourselves and your classmates. Do you understand?"

They both nodded slowly, that thought hadn't occurred to them at all.

"As it stands, I now have a free period and was about to visit Maia Violetta. I shall escort you to the Hospital Wing and you may miss the next class to visit Miss. Granger. I will be lenient this one time, I will never be this lenient again. Have I made myself clear?"

As they both intoned, "Yes, Professor Black", the witch in question waved her wand and a silver crow appeared, which flew away in the direction of their next class.

The two boys watched it, surprised, while Professor Black rolled her eyes at their ignorance – any child taught by her would have known _of_ the Patronus Charm long before they had reached the age of these two boys – and led the way towards the Hospital Wing in silence.

...

Cassiopeia sat in the chair next to Maia's bed, which was still surrounded by flowers. According to Professor Sprout, they would not have to wait much longer for the Mandrakes to be ready for the potion. It was a matter of days, and perhaps even of hours. Cassiopeia sighed, and wished that Maia could both wake up immediately and remain asleep forever.

While Maia remained asleep, Cassiopeia could pretend that when she woke up, everything would go back to normal. Caroline would come back, and forgive Cassiopeia in her joy. Narcissa would force Lucius to apologise, refusing to allow him to mar her happiness. However, Cassiopeia also knew that she was indulging in wishful thinking. When Maia woke up, there was every chance that things might get even worse for their family.

She reached forward and clasped the young, soft hand in her own and stroked it with a withered finger.

Her ears pricked at the sound of increasingly agitated whispers coming from the other side of the room.

"_Shush, she'll hear you!"_

"_But I've almost got it."_

"_It might not be anything."_

"_I've got it!"_

"_Oh damn, she's looking at us."_

The two boys leapt back from the bed and stood with their hands clasped behind their backs, trying to look innocent and failing miserably.

Cassiopeia stood up slowly from her chair and shook the skirts of her robe as she walked towards them. "What are you doing, boys?"

At the same time, they chorused "nothing" and internally kicked themselves.

She stood in front of them and held out her hand, "Give whatever it is to me, now."

Having no choice, Harry handed her the small scrap of parchment. Cassiopeia read it quickly, "Do you know what this means?" she asked.

Harry nodded, "That's Slytherin's monster, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so."

Cassiopeia looked down at the paper, an uncomfortable sensation threatened to overcome her: horror. Horror, that such a thing could ever be here. Horror, that it had never been uncovered. Horror, that a second year student could work out what had happened months before the whole department of Aurors. And horror, at how close she must have come to losing her niece.

"Are you alright, Professor?"

She blinked and shook herself, to see the red-headed brat reached forwards to grasp her, as though he was worried she might fall. She shook him away with a wave of her hand.

She steeled herself, thought through her options and said, "Follow me, we must report this to Professor McGonagall at once."

...

Cassiopeia pushed open the door to McGonagall's office without pausing to knock. The two boys followed warily behind her. It was well known that the two women despised each other.

McGonagall stood up from behind her desk, "Professor Black, I did not expect you so soon. I only just sent the messages to the staff."

Cassiopeia cocked an eyebrow, "I received no such message. I came directly from the Hospital Wing with a message for you." She handed over the piece of parchment, "Potter and Weasley found this clasped in Miss. Granger's hand."

McGonagall read the parchment and blinked rapidly, before glancing towards Ron, and looking away just as quickly, as if she could not bear to look him in the eye. "Of course Miss. Granger would have realised." She paused, "I must ask both of you, Mr. Potter and Master Weasley, to go directly to your Common Room. The rest of your housemates will join you shortly."

Cassiopeia's face became grim with realisation.

"Why, what's going on?" said Ron.

"Has there been another attack?" said Harry.

"You might as well tell them, they'll all find out soon enough, whatever has happened."

MGonagall sank back into her chair, "You are correct, Professor Black. Boys, another attack has taken place-"

"-who?"

"-Are they going to be ok?"

The elderly woman shook her head, "I am afraid not. I am afraid that the attacker has taken their final victim, and I am afraid that they have killed them." She paused and took a deep breath, "I am so very, very sorry, Master Weasley, but the victim is your sister."

Cassiopeia's hand flung to cover her mouth and stifle a gasp. For the first time, the two elderly women shared a glance that was not hostile. Ron stood absolutely still, his mouth open in horror and terror. Harry stared at his Head of House, "But there as to be something we can do? There as to be some way we can save her?"

Cassiopeia shook her head, "I am afraid not, Mr. Potter. One glance from the basilisk is fatal, and if the attacker has truly claimed a victim-" she cut herself off and looked towards McGonagall in an unspoken question.

McGonagall nodded, "The message they left was this, _her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever_."

"No!" cried Ron, in a half-strangled voice. "That's not it. You can't just say that. You can't just leave her there! You can't!" he was crying now, trying to brush away tears that just kept pouring down his face over and over again.

McGonagall shook her head, "We don't know where the chamber is, Master Weasley. And if we did, it would be certain-"

"-she's my SISTER!" He roared.

Harry looked at his friend and said quietly, "What if we knew where the chamber was?"

"What do you mean, Mr. Potter?" said Cassiopeia sharply.

Harry spoke, never taking his eyes away from the sobbing Ron, "Ron and I weren't going to the Hospital Wing, Professor, when you caught us. We were going to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She died fifty years ago, didn't she? That was when the chamber was last opened. And I was told-" he didn't think it would ever be a good idea to admit to sneaking into the forest and meeting Aragog, "-that the last victim was found in a bathroom. Myrtle was the last victim, wasn't she? Maybe she knows? Maybe there's something she can tell us?"

The two older women were now both staring, "I am not," began McGonagall, "even going to _ask_ what you children have been doing to uncover all of this, but I am pleased that you have been trying to help your school, even if you should have left it to the Aurors."

"Who haven't found_ anything_!" Harry almost-shouted.

Neither woman responded to that.

"So can we do something? Can we ask Myrtle? We have to _do something_!"

"Where are the Aurors now?" asked Cassiopeia, looking at McGonagall.

"They've all been sent back to the Ministry, to help co-ordinate the evacuation of the school this evening." _In a true display of Ministry incompetence and short-sightedness._

Just then, the rest of the teachers suddenly piled into McGonagall's office. It expanded immediately to accommodate them all.

"Is it true, Minerva?" said Professor Sprout, her voice shaking.

McGonagall nodded, "I am afraid so."

At that moment, every eye – expect Snape, who looked at Cassiopeia – turned to the still-crying Ron.

McGonagall stood up quickly, "Charity, I would like you to go and fetch Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Aurora, gather the rest of the Weasley children and look after them until their parents arrive. Filius, Severus and Pomona, remain in your Common Rooms with your students. Do all you can to protect them and keep them calm until the evacuation begins. Cuthburt, have the House Elves patrol the corridors and defend the school. Order them all to carry a mirror and all times. Galeata, please fill in for me as Head of Gryffindor. Dismissed."

A sudden bustle of activity saw the rest of the staff leave. Professor Snape remained behind, looking from Ron and Harry to McGonagall and Cassiopeia, "What are you up to, Minerva?"

She pursed her lips, "I am giving in to my Gryffindor tendencies, Severus. Please attend to Slytherin House."

He nodded warily and swept from the room.

Harry looked up warily, "Professor, does that mean...?"

She nodded grimly and waved her wand to conjure four mirrors.

"After you, Mr. Potter."

...

Cassiopeia took the mirror and wondered what on earth had happened to her and her life. She bought up the rear of their party as they headed towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. However, she highly doubted that the Potter boy really knew what he was talking about. This escapade would end with them returning empty handed, she was sure.

The Weasley boy had stopped crying, and now walked forward with a grim sort of determination. Potter opened the door to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. They all entered. It was flooded, as usual, and the girl was crying, as usual.

"Silence, you pathetic creature, and answer the boys questions." Snapped Cassiopeia.

"Oh, but I am." Said the girl, pouting. "I was just saying that here I was, crying, because Olive Hornby had been making fun of me, when a pair of big yellow eyes appeared just over there, and that was it, the end. It killlllleed me!" she wailed, spinning around in the air.

The two older witches ordered the boys back, and began to inspect the area around the sinks where the girl had pointed.

"Here," said McGonagall, "this tap is different."

Cassiopeia inspected it and tapped it with her wand, "Indeed it is." She looked back towards the boys, "Very well, we shall summon the Aurors-"

"There isn't TIME!" Harry shouted, "Ginny could be almost dead already!"

Cassiopeia straightened up, "I am afraid, Mr. Potter, that she already is dead. This is a recovery mission, not a rescue-"

"NO!" It was Ron, who shouted this time, and he was staring directly at McGonagall. She nodded.

"Professor Black, we must try."

"Then we should call the Aurors."

"By the time they get here, it will be too late."

"For Merlin's sake, it already _is_ too late!"

"We have to hope. If it was Miss. Black, you would hope."

For a brief moment Cassiopeia closed her eyes, "Very well."

The two witches began to tap the sink, murmuring different spells. Then Harry stepped forwards and hissed, _"Open"_.

They all jumped back as the sinks slowly began to twist and turn, winding their way back and forming a great hole, which seemed to descend into darkness and nothingness. Cassiopeia peered over, "Well then, Mr. Potter, the stairs if you please."

"The stairs?"

"Slytherin House is a House of nobility. He would not expect his Heir to descend into his chamber in such an undignified manner."

McGonagall rolled her eyes, "She is probably correct, Mr. Potter."

"_Stairs._"

A winding, spiral staircase of delicately carved stone slotted out from the stone work, one step at a time. Harry and Ron both rushed forwards.

"Not one more step, either of you." Snapped McGonagall.

"But Professor!"

"You are children. You are to remain here and wait for us. I would send you back right now, if there was someone to escort you. You are to have your mirrors ready at all times. If you here any signs of danger or trouble, you are to seal the chamber-"

"-we can't just lock you in there, you'll die! You won't be able to open it back up!"

"Be that as it may, you are to seal the chamber. We cannot risk your lives, and the lives of the rest of the students. Then, you are to send for the Ministry and tell them what has happened, do you understand?"

Neither responded.

"Do you understand?" snarled Cassiopeia, levelling her wand in their direction.

"Yes, Professor Black."

And with that, the two women turned and began to run down the stairs. Eventually, the sound of their clattering footsteps faded away. For the two boys left behind, the long minutes seemed to drag by like hours and days. Their faces were pale and drawn.

"Harry, do you really think Ginny's gone?"

"Not until I see her body. They'll save her, Ron. I know they will."

Suddenly, a piercing scream filled the air. They rushed to the stairs.

Without a word spoken between them, they hurtled down them after their teachers.

...

**Thank you for reading, the next update will be in one week.**

**Also, regarding Lucius' left arm, I believe that the Dark Mark faded after Hallowe'en 1981, but didn't go away completely. **


	62. The Fifth Rule

**I do not own Harry Potter**

**Trigger warning: violence, blood-prejudice**

Chapter Sixty Two_ The Fifth Rule_

The two boys ran into the chamber, bathed in green light, and found themselves flung sideways into a wall. Their bodies crashed into the stone and slumped in a pile on the grimy floor. A shriek-like hiss filled the air, and Harry could hear the sounds of a giant creature twisting and thrashing. Acting on instinct, he shielded his eyes and turned away.

Judging by sound, the basilisk was behind them. Turning his body away from the noise, just to be sure, Harry took a deep breath and opened his eyes as little as he could, hoping that it wouldn't be the last thing he ever did.

The sight that greeted him wasn't an encouraging one. Ron was unconscious. But they were hidden in an alcove, so at least the basilisk wasn't about to appear in front of them. He glanced on either side of himself, and saw the shattered fragments of the mirrors McGonagall had created.

Opposite him, Professor Black was resting against the wall. Her tangled hair was half loose around her face, and her robes were covered with slime and filth. There was a nasty gash running across left cheek and along her forehead, which disappeared back into her hairline. There were streaks of crimson across her face, where she had wiped the blood away from running into her eyes.

"You ought to thank me for that. You are two very stupid boys, did you even think to shut the chamber behind you?" she snapped.

Harry shook his head.

"Very good. Five hundred points to Gryffindor for carrying on the reckless and idiotic traditions of your forbearers, Potter. At least now, when they find our bodies, they'll know we died like heroes. It's just a pity that they'll have to wade through the bodies of the rest of the students first."

Harry's stomach dropped at her words. He thought he was going to be sick. It would be his fault! He couldn't, he just couldn't, let that happen. He looked her up and down and saw that she was gripping her wand so tightly that her knuckles were white, "Where's Professor McGonagall?"

"She's behind you, don't turn around."

Harry bent down and picked up the largest shard of broken mirror. He held it up over his shoulder and adjusted it. Eventually, his Head of House came into view. She was sprawled over the floor, grimacing and clutching her stomach.

"What happened, Professor?" whispered Harry.

"She charged at the Basilisk, eyes closed, of course, and it bit her."

"Will she be ok?"

"Another three hundred points for stupidity Potter, you read about the basilisk less than an hour ago. The bite is fatal. She's dying."

Harry thought for a moment that he might be sick. Professor McGonagall was dying. Professor McGonagall was going to die. And there was nothing he could do. And it was all his fault.

Professor Black's face was grim, as she resolutely stared at the opposite wall.

"She wounded it before she went down. It's in pain. It's slower."

"Does that mean we have a chance?"

"No."

Harry paused and then whispered urgently, "A cockerel, it dies if it hears a cockerel!"

"Really Potter, do you honestly think I haven't tried that already?"

"And?"

"Salazar Slytherin was a very clever man."

"Oh. So it didn't work?"

"No, you stupid, stupid boy, it didn't work." She snapped.

Suddenly, an-almost familiar voice echoed through the chamber, "Are you not going to introduce yourself, Harry Potter? I saw you arrive, you know. Or are you too busy exchanging pleasantries with your Defence Professor?"

Harry looked up at Professor Black, who shook her head minutely. _Don't respond_.

He swallowed, "Who's there?"

He stared at his Professor for help, but she'd closed her eyes and was taking a deep breath. She seemed to be muttering something to herself, over and over: _the fifth rule, the fifth rule, the fifth rule_... _A Black never shows fear. _

"Come and show yourself, Harry Potter, and you shall see."

Harry began to walk, when a surprisingly firm grip on his shoulder held him back. Professor Black pushed him behind her, and walked out in front of him.

"The Dark Lord I recall was somewhat less petulant." She said coldly, walking out to the centre of the chamber with her eyes closed. She turned on her heel to face the origin of the noise. The snake still seemed to thrash with pain, and Harry felt a sudden burst of pride and affection for his Head of House. He was pleased he had his eyes closed. He didn't want to watch her die. All he felt in his stomach though was a building sensation of guilt and fear. Voldemort had been behind all of this, again, and this time Ginny and Ron and Professor McGonagall and Professor Black were all here with him, and would all die because of him, again.

The whole school might die because of him.

He had to save them.

He _had_ to.

"So you have worked out who I am then, Madam Black?"

"The discovery was hardly a work of a genius."

"And may I ask how you came to your conclusions, regardless?"

Harry opened his eyes quickly – briefly – and saw Professor Black gesture – almost dismissively – to something to the left of the chamber. Her gesture was vague, her eyes were still closed, but Harry followed her hand, careful to hold a hand to one side of his face, so that he blocked the basilisk from his line of vision.

His stomach dropped.

Ginny was so pale she looked like a corpse. The diary, Riddle's diary, lay discarded beside her. Riddle, the prefect from the diary, stood next to her. He looked partially transparent. And the realisation hit him: Riddle was Voldemort.

He closed his eyes again.

"That is the Darkest of magic. It was only a process of elimination to deduce its owner."

"And are you not pleased, Madam Black? Are you not pleased that the Dark Lord has risen again? I thought that your House would be delighted with my re-birth." His tone was light and playful, as if they were discussing a game of croquet in spring.

"You are not reborn yet, my Lord, and I will not hold my breath. As half my House are either dead or in Azkaban having served you, and as their service almost bankrupted us, I'm afraid to have to beg your leave to refrain from ordering the house elf to string up the bunting at the prospect of your impeding return. As my sister-in-law would say, _I am not your biggest fan_-"

"SILENCE!" roared Riddle, his voice filling the chamber as he cut her off, "I will rise again! This new body will be as strong as my last, and you will _not_ be insolent towards me!"

Harry couldn't quite believe it when he saw his stern Professor smirk, "Generally, it is elders and betters who say that to their students, not the other way around."

"I am no student, I am the master!"

"And yet you wear Hogwarts robes?" Her tone was mocking. Her knuckles were still white around her wand.

"Why are you here, Madam Black? Why do you seek to distract me from the boy? You must know that I will kill him eventually."

Cassiopeia shrugged lightly, "Perhaps I have switched sides, my Lord. I must confess, I am embarrassed that my kin ever knelt before anyone, and now that I know you are nothing but a half-blood, well... What would any respectable blood-purist think? Where did the name Riddle come from, exactly? What filth did your mother lie with? Or is it darker even than that, are you nothing more than a mudblood? I say-"

Riddle's eyes flashed as he cut her off, "Silence! By the time I am finished, all of the House of Black will bow before me! All of them, even you!"

He waved his wand, and pointed it at Cassiopeia as if to curse her. Again, she smirked, "Your magic is not strong enough, yet. You cannot force me to bow, and I swear a solemn vow that none of my House will _ever_ bow to you again, not while I draw breath. You are beneath us."

Cassiopeia sought to steady her breathing. If she had to stand here and die, she would. Not for the Weasley brats, or Harry Potter, or Hogwarts or Albus Dumbledore, but for her family, her nieces and her nephews, and her own Heir, who were on the other side of the Chamber doorway behind her. No, she would stand here and she would be thrice-damned before she let him touch a hair on Maia's head. She knew what what her heart beat for, and she would never let anyone or anything take that away from her. While there was breath in her body, the House of Black neither break nor bend.

The House of Black would STAND.

The last word seemed to come out as a roar in her head.

She wondered, in passing, if Gryffindor stupidity was contagious. She had been exposed to a lot of it in the past hour, after all.

Riddle changed tactic, "Harry Potter, are you going to let both your teachers die for you? I have already killed the girl, you missed that, why don't you come out and watch this time? Why, you can have a front row seat." He laughed. The sound sent a chill down Harry's spine.

"Potter, stay where you are!" shouted Cassiopeia, her eyes still tightly closed.

Harry took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and walked out towards his teacher. He turned to where he thought Riddle ought to be, "Professor Black won't cower before you, Professor McGonagall won't cower before you, and neither shall I. You won't win, this is still Dumbledore's school and you're still scared of him. You're the one who's going to cower!"

"Dumbledore has been driven out of this school by the _mere memory_ of me!"

"Albus Dumbledore will never be gone, as long as those who remain are loyal to him!"

Suddenly, a blaze of fire filled the room. Something soft fell down over Harry's head, and he felt a sharp bump smack him on the top of his skull. The Chamber was suddenly filled with hissing and screeching.

Riddle cried, "NO!" and Harry opened his eyes without thinking. Fawkes had come, and he was attacking the basilisk.

"The basilisk may be blind, Harry Potter, but his bite will still kill you, slowly and painfully. Look at your professor for an example. And look at what Dumbledore has sent his great defender, a glorified pet and a threadbare hat."

Harry swallowed. Riddle's words sounded very true.

Riddle's hiss filled the chamber, and echoed along the walls, _"Attack them. Kill them. Kill them all." _

Holding the hat on his head with one hand, Harry grabbed Professor Black's hand with the other, and began to drag her into the maze of pipes.

"He might be blind, but he can still hear you!" called Riddle.

Cassiopeia rolled her eyes and waved her wand. Their clattering footsteps stopped, silent, even as they continued to run through the maze. She put her finger to her lips; it wasn't safe to talk. They ducked into a side alcove, as the basilisk slid past them, looking from side to side.

Harry's heart jumped in his chest. It felt so loud that he was worried the snake would hear. He didn't dare to breathe.

After the basilisk had slid past them, Harry reached up and pulled the hat from his head. He realised then that it was the Sorting Hat, and something glittered inside it as he held it in his hand. He reached in and his hands grasped around cool, solid metal. He pulled, and found himself holding a ruby-encrusted sword.

Cassiopeia smiled wryly, but said nothing. Long moments passed. Together, by unspoken mutual consent, they stood up and crept back towards the main chamber. Fawkes lay over Professor McGonagall, weeping. Ron had awoken and run to his sister's side, crying as he cradled her head in his hands. Riddle was leant back against a giant statue of a snake, twirling both Ginny's and Ron's and McGonagall's wands in his hands. Above his head shone two lines of words.

_TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE_

_I AM LORD VOLDEMORT_

Clearly, Riddle had been boasting while they were away.

He looked towards them, "Still alive, I see? Well, it's a pleasure to have you both again. Mr Weasley and I were just deciding who would die first, his sister or his teacher. Would either of you like to cast a vote?"

"You're sick, Riddle." Spat Harry, "You know that, right?"

Riddle shrugged, "Perhaps, by the way, _it's behind you_."

Harry spun round and charged at the basilisk as it loomed above him, swinging at it wildly with the sword. He flung the hat aside. At the same time, he heard two voices call out, "STUPEFY!"

Two flashes of red light hit the flanks of the basilisk. Its head slumped, but it quickly spun back to the fight, charging towards Harry once again. He turned and ran while Riddle laughed. He looked up when he heard the laughter stop. Riddle's face was tight with concentration as he duelled with both professors. His magic was getting stronger, but it wasn't strong enough to take on the two violent-looking witches.

The basilisk was catching up with him, and Harry scrambled up a large statue. He turned at the last minute and plunged the sword through the roof of the basilisk's mouth as it opened its jaws to engulf him.

Riddle screamed and made a slashing motion with his wand as he fell himself. Cassiopeia howled in pain, and clutched her stomach as she feel to her knees, yelling "Accio basilisk fang!"

Just before the giant head of the basilisk hit the floor, a fang was ripped from its skull. It flew through the air and into her grasp. Holding a blood-stained hand to her stomach, Cassiopeia crawled across the floor and plunged the fang into the diary.

Riddle howled as if in agony from where he already lay, sprawled across the floor.

And Ginny Weasley's eyes flew open, as she gasped for breath.

...


	63. What a Wonderful World

**I do not own Harry Potter, everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

'I see friends shaking hands, saying "how do you do?"

They're really saying, "I love you."– Louis Armstrong, _What a Wonderful World_

Chapter Sixty Three_ What a Wonderful World_

Caroline let out a shriek as she read the letter. Trixie appeared next to her in an instant.

"Mistress Black, what's the matter being? Where is the attacker being? Let me at them!"

Caroline covered her mouth as she cried over the letter, the ink ran and spread and the words disappeared.

"There's no attack, Trixie. Something marvellous has happened. Something truly, truly wonderful has happened..."

...

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley dragged their feet on the way to the staff room. They didn't know why they were going there; they hadn't had the chance to ask.

"-And, in addition, might I remind you that it is generally considered foolish to enter into a battle against an XXXXX-rated Dark magical creature and a budding Dark Lord, when one is only twelve years old. Potter, if I cared, I would be concerned that you had a death wish. I suppose, however, that you must be yet another Gryffindor suffering from a hero complex. Which, it falls upon me to note, smacks of arrogance..."

Cassiopeia's lecture had begun even before Fawkes had finished healing her stomach. She had continued as he had led them out of the Chamber, and she had yet to pause or draw breath. Harry was no longer worried that he had a hero-complex, but was starting to wonder if prolonged exposure to this woman would leave him with an inferiority complex, or serious self-esteem issues.

He wondered, in an attempt to distract himself from Professor Black's latest analysis of his (many) failings as a human being, just how Maia Black had turned out to be so self-important, when she had, by all accounts, been raised by this very woman.

Perhaps it was because she was a Black. They must all be born arrogant. Or have no failings to be picked apart. Or maybe Maia just didn't get criticised like he did.

He scuffed the toe of his shoe on the floor as he continued to make his way towards the staffroom. The walk seemed to take longer than it ever had before. Just up ahead, Ginny Weasley leant against Professor McGonagall for support. She still looked faint and pale. She was still crying, begging to be forgiven, convinced it was all her fault and convinced she would be expelled.

Would he and Ron also be expelled?

"And, if Professor Black will allow me to interrupt-" there was pause as Professor McGonagall turned to her colleague, who graciously inclined her head, "-I must add that while I disagree with her particular _expressions_ when critiquing your actions, I cannot find fault with her _reasoning_, Potter. You deliberately disobeyed us and put your life, and the lives of your friends, in danger. As noble and brave as your actions were, they were just as foolhardy and dangerous."

Harry and Ron exchanged significant looks. It seemed that the two rival professors had, in the Chamber, reached some kind of understanding. Not only did this bode ill for their immediate futures, but it strongly suggested that life at Hogwarts was about to become a lot more disciplined.

Finally, Professor McGonagall pushed open the door to the staff room, to reveal a stricken- looking Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and an unusually grave Professor Dumbledore. At the noise of the door opening, Mrs. Weasley glanced up and let out a strangled cry before running to her only daughter and holding her tightly against her chest, rocking Ginny as her own body shook with tears.

Dumbledore frowned as the rest of the party entered. His gaze met that of Cassiopeia and the old man very nearly flinched. Professor McGonagall's face was unreadable, which was just as concerning to him.

The two boys came to a halt in front of the headmaster.

"Well, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, would you like to explain the events of this evening to me?"

And so the story was told; how Hermione had worked out what had happened, how they had told the two Professors, how they had promised not to go into the Chamber, but how they had charged in anyway, how Professor McGonagall had been bitten, how Harry had found the sword and attacked the snake, and how Professor Black had stabbed the strange diary, from which Riddle seemed to have drawn his power.

None of the adults commented while the story was told, except form Mr. Weasley's horrified cry when he found that the diary had possessed his daughter.

"_Ginny, how many times have I told you never to trust something that can think for itself, unless you can see where it keeps its brain!"_

To which Cassiopeia icily responded that what sort of a wizard didn't noticed that his own daughter was possessed, or that a Dark magical object was in his home.

Wands were drawn at this point, and peace restored when Dumbledore pointed out that all the adults must share some of the blame, as none of them had realised the truth until it was too late.

Cassiopeia then remarked upon the incompetence of the Aurors she had hired, given that a twelve year old _muggleborn_ had worked out what was going on months ago.

And then Dumbledore really was forced to call for silence, and for the two boys to continue their story.

When they came to an end, Dumbledore was smiling. "I must say," he said, with tears in his twinkling eyes, "that I am immensely proud, and truly honoured, by your actions. Only true loyalty could have called Fawkes to you, Harry. If the rubies are anything to go by, it would seem that you have already been rewarded for your actions. According to the records," he pulled a sheet of parchment from his robes, "it would seem that Professor Black awarded Gryffindor a total of eight hundred points whilst you were in the Chamber of Secrets."

Harry and Ron looked over to see a highly unpleasant scowl grace the aforementioned Professor's aristocratic features. She had clearly not expected any of them to live long enough for the points to carry any weight. "And it would seem a little frivolous to add to that total. Therefore, I shall award you both Awards for Special Services to the school."

Harry and Ron grinned at each other, while the Weasley parents looked on fondly, and the second matriarch joined the first in her scowl. Stupidity ought not to be rewarded.

Dumbledore leant back in his armchair, forming a prism with his hands, "While I am sure that Miss. Weasley will suffer no lasting damage, it is nevertheless advisable that she make her way to the Hospital Wing. Mr. Weasley, I believe that you should also go, that was a nasty blow to the head after all."

Ron nodded, and was ushered out by his parents. Only Harry and the three teachers now remained in the staff room.

...

Harry touched Godric Gryffindor's sword in wonder. Hermione had told him that they were related, but touching the sword and knowing that the Hat had given it to him provided tangible proof that the headmaster was telling the truth; he belonged with the lions, not the snakes.

And whatever the slightly singed diary was – and it must be terrible if Dumbledore wasn't sure – at least it was gone now, and Voldemort wasn't coming back. At least not tonight.

He touched to sword again, when Dumbledore's words suddenly caught his ears.

_Madam Pomfrey will be waking the students today._

Dumbledore nodded, seeing the gleam and the hope in Harry's eyes, and waved his hand, shooing him happily from the room. Leaving the sword and the diary and the horrors of the Chamber behind, Harry ran towards the Hospital Wing.

...

"Headmaster, I can understand you not wanting to tell the boy the truth, but..."

"I know, Minerva, I am wrong to lie, but he is a _child_."

"It doesn't matter to the Dark Lord that he is still a child, and we should not forget that."

"I suppose, but... Oh, that poor boy. Hasn't he been through enough already?"

"He's just one boy. There are wider issues-"

"-Really! How can you be so cold?"

Dumbledore raised a hand, a sign of peace and of silence, "I understand, Madam Black, Professor McGonagall. I assure you both, one day he will know. I fear it is his destiny to find them all. But he does not need to know now. I take no joy in lying to him, but he is a boy, he is _only twelve_."

"Wait? Headmaster, does that mean there are _more_?"

Cassiopeia's dry voice cut through the air, "Undoubtedly, of course he would make a spare."

"Actually, I fear it may be worse than that..."

...

Lucius Malfoy stormed through the castle. His cane smacked down hard on the floor with each step he took, and his travelling cloak billowed out behind him. Just a hour ago he'd received an express owl, informing him that the old fool had returned, that Slytherin's monster had been defeated, and that his niece, his filthy half blood niece, was about to be woken up, and that the cause of Slytherin's Heir's second reign of terror had been uncovered.

And oh, how the old man had gloated.

What had the muggle-loving fool said, that he _should be more careful with the Dark Lord's old school _things?

But he had no proof, he'd conceded that. Lucius was safe, from Dumbledore at least.

Narcissa was waiting for him in the Hospital Wing, with Maia and Cassiopeia. From whom he was not quite safe yet.

Cassiopeia had continued her intimacy with Narcissa, who, he was pleased to note, he had kept blissfully ignorant of his dealings over the last twelve months, and of his argument with Cassiopeia. Cassiopeia seemed content to keep her in the dark as well, presumably to retain Narcissa's loyalty as a Black, and hoping that it would eventually trump her loyalty as a Malfoy, when the old hag inevitably brought into play whatever downfall she was plotting for him.

But he was safe.

He was sure he was safe.

Cassiopeia was losing her touch.

The cane smacked down on the floor again.

Salazar, he wanted to throw something.

And, by Salazar, he would not betray such uncouth emotions.

He opened the door to the Hospital Wing.

...

Harry sat up in his bed as Mr. Malfoy walked into the room, and wondered what he was doing here. Then he remembered that he was on the Board of Governors – having dismissed both Hagrid and Professor Dumbledore – and that he was Maia's uncle. He must have heard what had happened, and he must want to be here for when Maia woke up.

Hermione was still Petrified, the potion would not be ready for at least another hour, but Harry was pleased that the kindly matron was so busy with the potion, that she wasn't fussing over Ron and himself as much as she would normally have done. Ron sat in the next bed to him, holding a magical cold compress to the bump on the back of his head.

Professor McGonagall had managed to evade the Hospital Wing, having been healed by Fawkes, but Professor Black had taken up residence in the bed next to Maia. Fawkes may have healed her stomach, but there had been no time to tend to her other injuries. A strange, purple poultice covered half of her face, where the deep gash was, and she was slowly sipping from a foul smelling potion. Even he and Ron were screwing their noses, and they were on the other side of the room.

There was a woman Harry didn't recognise sitting on a chair next to Professor Black; she had long blonde hair and pale blue eyes. She was tall and richly dressed. She would have been beautiful, if she didn't look so cold and arrogant. Although when Harry looked closer, he could see that her hands were shaking, and that her eyes were damp and rimmed with red. She wasn't cold then, she was just... hiding.

Mr. Malfoy ignored Harry and went and stood behind the woman, his wife? Professor Black looked up as he approached. It was hard to tell, with the poultice, but he thought he saw her eyes narrow. Mr. Malfoy bowed, stiffly, and she inclined her head. Neither spoke.

The woman reached up and took Mr. Malfoy's hand, bringing it to rest on her shoulder. She sobbed, just once, and Professor Black said something that was undoubtedly sarcastic. Harry could tell by her tone, even if he couldn't hear the words.

Harry looked down at his watch, it had now been three hours since they had escaped Voldemort and the Chamber. He was so tired...

...

Caroline would have run through the school hallways, had she been younger. As it was, she managed a sort of brisk trot. She was out of breath when she pushed the door of the Hospital Wing open, a quick glance around showed her that she was the first parent there, but then most muggle parents did not have the advantage of a House Elf who could take her directly to Hogsmeade station.

And then here eyes took in the rest of the scene.

As well as the Petrified school children, two boys and a girl were also in the ward. They looked exhausted, and were covered in cuts and bruises and scrapes. All of them were sleeping, their skin white with tiredness. What on earth did the children in this school get up to? She wondered if something else had happened, but her letter had only mentioned the potion...

And then she saw Narcissa and Lucius, with their backs to her. Lucius stood upright, stoical. Narcissa sat still, or as still as she could, but her shoulders were hunched ever-so-slightly and one gloved hand was pressed tightly over her lips.

Caroline walked around them, a hand pressed over her heart, and stood at the end of the unseen patient's bed.

"My God, Cassiopeia..."

The older woman looked up, "Caroline."

Slowly, Caroline walked around to the other side of the bed, and sank down into the opposite chair. She took Cassiopeia's hands into her own; she struggled for a moment to find her voice. Her throat was dry, and she swallowed.

"Cassiopeia, are you alright?"

The witch nodded, and it was only then that Caroline realised that she'd started to cry.

They each squeezed the other's hand.

...

**Ok, this was finished a lot sooner than I expected and I really hope that it was an enjoyable chapter. I really don't think that Caroline stopped caring about Cassiopeia, she was just angry, and Caroline is not the type to stay angry when someone else is hurt... **

**Reviews are always more than welcome. Thank you to everyone who does review, add, favourite or read this story. I know I don't answer reviews, but I do read and appreciate every single one. **


	64. All Things Change

**Once again, I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Here it is, the one you've all been waiting for!**

Chapter Sixty Four _All Things Change_

Remus Lupin stared at the pages of his book, trying to ignore what was going on in the ward around him. He had travelled to Hogwarts as soon as he had found Caroline's hastily written message, left haphazardly on the table, after he had returned from his work in the East End.

Sadly, the book was not a very good distraction.

The potion had still not been administered, and Maia was still led, corpse-like, on the bed.

Caroline had not really moved from her chair, expect under duress to eat and drink something, and was alternately clasping Cassiopeia's hand and stroking her daughter's hair.

The aforementioned witch – the conscious one – was shooting him glares that made him glad that there was the word 'if' in the phrase regarding looks that could kill.

Then, of course, there was the Death Eater (he didn't think that there was anything 'former' about Lucius Malfoy's ideology) and his wife sitting opposite him.

Luckily none of them had spoken to him since he had arrived. Perhaps they knew that their words could not be vocalised in a school, or any form of _polite _company. Caroline kept glancing at him apologetically, which if anything made it worse. Caroline was going to forgive them; he could feel it in his gut. She was going to forgive them because she was Caroline, and that was the sort of thing that people like Caroline did.

He hesitated to _say_ stupid people, but he couldn't help but _think_ it.

Although, he noted with some pleasure, that while Cassiopeia was frosty with him, she wasn't exactly warm towards Lucius either. He wondered what had happened...

But, to be honest, there was someone else in this room who was taking up far more of his attention.

_James' son_.

...

Harry wondered why the tired-looking man kept glancing in his direction.

He hoped he wasn't another Mr. Diggle.

Although he hadn't said anything to him yet, and they'd all been here for hours. Far longer than Madam Pomfrey had said before.

Though the man, whoever he was, was sitting with the Blacks. He probably wouldn't want to talk to him. He was probably one of their friends. Which meant that the man probably didn't like him.

Harry decided to pretend he was asleep, and hope that the matron let him out of here soon.

...

Remus wondered if Harry was happy with Lily's sister. He'd never met her. Petunia, wasn't it? He'd heard stories though, from both James and Lily. She sounded ghastly, better than Cassiopeia, perhaps, but then that wasn't saying a great deal. What did the wise men say? _It's not goodness to be better than the worst. _

He glanced back over; Harry was asleep.

Well, there was nothing he could do. Harry had to stay with Lily's family. He needed Lily's protection, according to Dumbledore.

He glanced back over; Harry was only pretending.

...

Remus sat down on the chair next to Harry's bed, well aware that he really ought not to be speaking to him, and gently shook the boy's elbow.

Harry opened with eyes without even pretending to continue the act. _So like James_. James had hated lies and artifice. He couldn't stand to pretend about anything, which was why he had unashamedly declared his love for Lily Evans when they were all eleven years old, and had always refused to take the words back.

And that was why he refused to see, or failed to see, the lies that others around him were telling and spreading.

And that was why he was dead.

And that was why Black - the father, not the daughter - deserved to rot in Azkaban for the rest of his days.

Harry sat up, "Who're you?"

The boy's voice was wary, and it cut through him.

"My name is Remus Lupin."

"Oh." Harry paused, as Remus also remained silent. After all, what was one supposed to say in a situation like this?

_Hi, I know you've never met me before, but I feel I ought to claim some sort of relationship with you, as I was your parent's best friend. Oh, and I was best friends with their murderer as well. Yes, I know you've probably been rather miserable with Lily's sister, but, you see, I couldn't take you myself, because Dumbledore said so. _

_Oh, and in addition, I'm a werewolf._

Harry spoke first, "Are you a friend of the Blacks?"

Remus smiled wryly, "I am a friend of Mrs. Black, and I used to be Maia's tutor."

"Oh." Another pause.

"Are you friends with Maia?"

Longer pause, "Not really. She and Hermione used to be friends, but then they fell out."

Remus nodded, he had heard of this story.

And Harry decided not to say any more on the subject of Maia Black, Draco Malfoy and their little gang, and the exploits they got up to, which mainly seemed to involve trying to get him and his friends expelled. After all, this Mr. Lupin was probably on good terms with them. But why on earth was he sitting by his bedside?

Harry took a deep breath, "I don't mean to be rude, Mr. Lupin..."

"It's quite alright, Harry." Remus paused, not only because he now had to decide how to continue, but because not only was it strange to talk to, and even see, Harry for the first time since he was a small baby, but because it was strange to call him _Harry_. He looked so like James. Remus took a deep breath, "You want to know why I'm talking to you, why I'm sitting here."

Harry nodded, "Well, erm, yes..." He looked away.

"I knew your parents, when they were at school. I remember you from when you were a baby, and I wanted to ask how you were... after the Chamber." He wouldn't ask about Lily's sister.

"You knew my parents?"

"Yes."

Harry pulled himself up in the bed, "Why haven't I met you before now?"

Remus pushed a hand through his hair, and then brought it down to scratch the thin spread of stubble on his chin. "Well, after your parents... after your parents died." The words seemed to catch in his throat. "You went to live with your aunt and uncle, and, well, it wasn't really practical... _possible_ for me to visit. You weren't supposed to know about magic, and I left the country for a long time after the war..." He stopped. He would rather be silent than lie. There had been too many lies recently.

Harry nodded, waited, and then said, "Did you know them well?"

Harry had watched closely as the older man had struggled before, his voice breaking when spoke of the deaths. He watched again as the man struggled now.

"I knew them well in school, but we drifted apart after we left. These things happen, you know." It was only a half lie... they had drifted when Black had started to whisper that he was the traitor. They were quiet whispers... clever whispers. Black had said he couldn't, wouldn't, didn't believe it. But they all knew it was a traitor somewhere... and of course, the werewolf had more reasons than most to change sides...

"Could you tell me about them?" Harry wanted to ask why he'd been stuck with the Dursley's if his parents had had friends who could have taken him in, but perhaps that wasn't the case. At least, not the case with this man. Though he'd clearly cared for them.

Remus was about to shake his head when Madam Pomfrey bustled in with a large goblet of potion. He suddenly smiled, "I don't think now is a good time, Madam Pomfrey is about to wake your friends up. I'll write to you, shall I?"

Harry nodded and grinned, "Thank you."

Remus walked back over to Maia, and smiled to himself a little sadly. The world would be a very different place if he had taken in Maia, and Harry, all those years ago. They would be friends, brother and sister, both loud and boisterous, which neither of them were now. Perhaps they would both be Gryffindor, or Maia a Ravenclaw. Harry would certainly be more open, more confident, and Maia... well, she would not hold many of the ideas which she currently did. Merlin, no, not if he had raised her... But she was a good child, at heart, and she was learning for herself. Perhaps she would be all the better for it in the end?

Along with the Malfoys, he left the Hospital Wing so that Maia could wake up in peace, but looked back and smiled as he saw Maia's hand twitch in her mother's grasp.

...

Slowly and groggily, Maia opened her eyes. It took a few moments for the world to come into focus.

Her mother's face became clear first, "Hello, darling."

She smiled weakly, "Hello, mum... mother."

Caroline half-laughed, "You're in the Hospital Wing, you're allowed to forsake formality when we've all been so worried about you."

"What happened?" Her voice felt very hoarse.

"Well, darling, what's the last thing you remember?"

Maia frowned, "I remember having Transfiguration, and thinking that Professor McGonagall was a lower-middle class hag... I mean, that Professor McGonagall was treating me unfairly... because I'd Seen something. And I remember running out, as though I was chasing my vision, and then I saw Finch-Fletchley, and then... and then I don't remember anything. Just dreams."

Caroline squeezed her hand, "You were Petrified."

Maia nodded, "And now they woke me up."

"Yes."

"How long have I been asleep?"

Caroline paused, for so long that Maia's stomach clenched, "Almost eight months."

"Salazar!" Maia tried to pull herself up, but she was too woozy, and her head began to spin, and Caroline quickly grabbed a bed pan from the side so that Maia could be sick into it.

Caroline stroked her hair, "Don't worry, it's better out than in, as they say. I know it's a shock, but it doesn't matter now. You're awake and that's all that matters. Now try and lie back and sit still, the matron said that you might be queasy for a while, but all that matters now is that you're awake and that we've got you back."

Maia fell back among the pillows and sipped at the water he mother offered her, "Sorry."

"There's nothing to apologise for."

Maia closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths to steady her stomach, "Well, have I missed much?"

A sarcastic laugh from the next bed along made her turn her head towards her aunt, "Oh yes, and more, niece."

...

Maia digested the information, "So, you and Aunt Cassiopeia had a falling out...?"

"Yes."

"But you won't discuss it?"

"No, it's private."

"But your friends again now?"

Both nodded, rather slowly, and her mother spoke, "Sometimes, things happen, and you just realise that people are more important than arguments."

"Like fighting basilisks?"

"Yes."

"So why aren't going back to Black Rose House, when Aunt Cassiopeia is?"

"I think it's best if we stayed in London a little longer, but you can visit your aunt as often as you like, and Draco of course."

"But I'd much rather return to Black Rose House, mother."

Caroline closed her eyes, while Cassiopeia smirked triumphantly, "I know you would Maia, and if you wish, you're more than welcome to spend the entire summer with me, and I shall tutor you in the work you have missed."

"Actually," said Caroline, cutting across Cassiopeia, "I have already made arrangements for Maia's education this summer, and they shall be conducted in London."

"But mother-"

"You are perfectly entitled to visit your aunt, Maia, and perhaps she may tutor you in addition to Professor Lupin, but our home, at the moment, will be in town. If the situation regarding Black Rose House changes, you'll be the first to know."

Aunt Narcissa reached over the stroke Maia's hair from her face, in an attempt to prevent any further argument. "I shall want you to visit very often, dear, I've missed you so very much. We all have..."

Maia smiled at her, before turning back to her mother, "And will Professor Lupin be staying with us?"

"Yes, he's agreed to tutor you over the summer. And he can apparate you whenever you want to go somewhere, as I haven't installed the Floo."

"We won't have the Floo?" Her eyes widened in horror.

"You'll cope, darling."

"But that's practically medieval, mother!"

Remus smiled, earning him a glare from the Malfoys, "I'm sure you'll persuade her in due course, Maia."

"And I'm sure it won't be long until you'll back in Black Rose House," put in Aunt Cassiopeia, "the apartment in London is only a temporary arrangement, isn't it?"

Caroline paused, "I believe so, we shall have to see."

Cassiopeia pursed her lips, but decided to say no more, instead she turned to Remus, "And have you made plans for _after_ this summer?" Her tone was not particularly friendly.

"As a matter of fact, I have. I shall be teaching here, in Hogwarts. I spoke to the Headmaster whilst Madam Pomfrey was administering the potion."

Maia smiled politely, "I think that will be wonderful, Professor Lupin."

"Well, after the events of today, I have no intention of taking up the post again."

Remus inclined his head, "The Headmaster presumed as much."

Cassiopeia stood up – her face still bruised and with a nasty-looking graze, but otherwise in perfect health once again – and shook out her skirts, "Well, I believe I've spent enough time in this Hospital Wing for one day, I shall bid you all good day. It is dinnertime now, after all."

The Blacks, Malfoys and Remus followed her example, leaving Maia and the other patients to eat their dinner in peace.

...

Lucius offered Cassiopeia his harm, and they hung back behind the rest of their party. She turned her head to Lucius and smiled, her tone light, "Oh, Lucius, if you ever threaten Caroline or Maia again, I just wanted to let you know that I will kill you. Do we understand each other?"

"Oh yes, I understand very well." He smirked, "And yet you cannot throw me off."

"Indeed, I _shall_ not."

"Our Houses are united."

"For the moment."

"You think that will change?"

"Lucius, anything can change."

...

Cassiopeia stared straight ahead.

_Anything can change._

Well, she was now involved embroiled in a Horcrux conspiracy theory, on the side of the Light, no less. And, more than that, had sworn her House's opposition to the Dark Lord's former self.

Which would not be quite so drastic, if she wasn't now aware that he would, most definitely, be back one day.

And she wasn't foolish enough to imagine that he would never find out what had happened.

And still she stared straight ahead.

...

Maia pushed away her dinner; her stomach still felt far too rotten to even look at food, yet alone eat it.

"I couldn't manage mine, either."

Hermione Granger sat down in the chair beside her bed, "I'd ask permission, but I can't stand for much longer. I've used up all my energy."

"That's quite alright, aren't the boys going to wonder why you're here?"

She shrugged, _most uncouth_, and said, "They've been let out, they went down to dinner in the Great Hall."

Maia nodded, "I hear you worked out that it was a basilisk."

"Yes."

"Congratulations."

Hermione pursed her lips, "It was nice, working with you. I liked that we were civil."

"I suppose I did as well."

"Shall we keep being civil?"

"Yes, I think we should." Maia paused, took a deep breath, "We should write, perhaps."

"Oh yes, we should write. We can help each other catch up." Said Hermione.

"But only for academic purposes, in line with our arrangement."

"Of course."

"Of course."

...

Maia was almost ready to go back to sleep after Hermione went back to her own bed, to be fussed over by her parents. She was really very tired, but Madam Pomfrey had warned that this was a common side-effect of both the potion, and extended periods of Petrification.

Still, she was pleased when her friends and cousins marched into the Hospital Wing to visit her after dinner. Tracey and Daphne both swept over, kissed her on the cheek, and took over the two chairs beside her bed.

Draco stood next to her and squeezed her hand, "Thank Merlin you're back, Maia."

She smiled, "Well, I'm pleased you missed me."

"It was far worse than that." Whispered Draco earnestly, and the others pretended not to hear.

"Exams got cancelled." Grunted Vincent.

Tracey tossed her hair, "Really Vincent, your cousin has been Petrified for almost eight months, and that the first thing you say to her?"

Vincent shrugged.

"Honestly." Said Tracey, rolling her eyes. She patted Maia's hand, "Well, now you know that Dumbledore cancelled the exams to celebrate. And Gryffindor got the trophy, thanks to your aunt, of all people."

Maia smirked, "I heard about that, she wasn't happy."

"She didn't look happy either!" laughed Daphne.

Maia looked around her friends and smiled, "It's so good to be back. Have I missed much while I was gone? Do any of you have any exciting news?"

Draco nodded, but Daphne cut him off, "The election campaign for the Commons in the Wizengamot has started. Father is standing for re-election."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Nobody cares, Daphne, he'll win. But I do have something to tell you, Maia."

"Oh?" she said, smiling.

"It may take some explaining, but this is permanent."

Her smile faded, "Ought I to be wary?"

"Oh no, not at all. You see, your Petrifcation came as a shook, and it really changed a lot of things."

Maia looked around her friends, wary regardless of Draco's words. Blaise looked sceptical, Daphne and Tracey grim-faced, Vincent and Gregory as expressionless as ever, while Draco smiled enthusiastically.

"You see," said Draco, "Pansy and Millicent are our friends now."

...

**Hello!**

**Thank you for all the reviews and comments after the last chapter. Third year will technically start with the summer holidays, which will begin in two chapters time. And, just so you know, I have lots of drama planned for third year... I hope that's reward enough for your patience. Also, as this is my 64****th**** chapter and I'm only at the end of second year, so does anyone know if there's a limit to how many chapters a FF story can have? (If there's a limit, I'll just cut this story off at the end of third year and start a sequel for third year onwards). **

**Let me know what you like/dislike! **

**Best wishes,**

**R&L. **


	65. And We Change With Them

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Sixty Five _And We Change With Them _

It was late at night, and all the adults had long since left the Hospital Wing. The only people left were the recently awoken students, most of whom were once again soundly asleep. Mrs. Norris and Sir Nicholas had both been released already.

Hermione Granger had fallen asleep with a book clutched to her chest, which even Madam Pomfrey had not been able to prise from her hands, such was the young girl's determination to begin her catch-up work on her studies. Colin Creevey had chattered himself into a stupor, whilst Justin Finch-Fletchley had spent the day resting, just as Madam Pomfrey had ordered. Penelope Clearwater had had a very _enthusiastic _reunion with her boyfriend, which Maia was doing her very _very_ best to erase from her memory. She didn't think much of the girl's taste, but then, she was only a muggleborn. A Weasley might be a good catch for her.

However, in all honesty, Maia was not overly preoccupied with the affairs on Penelope Clearwater's heart at that particular moment. As the only person awake, she was doing her best to stifle her sobs into her pillow, so that nobody would know how absolutely pathetic she was. She was very proud that she had managed to hold it together until everyone had left and the rest of the ward had gone to sleep. She had obeyed rule number five of being a Black: _Never show fear or weakness._

She'd made a sizeable patch of water when she felt a hand tug at her shoulder. She sat up to find herself faced with two people she had not expected to see, Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis.

Maia immediately began to rub the tears away from her eyes, but Tracey just sighed and shook her head before handing her a handkerchief, and Daphne hopped up onto the bed next to her.

"How did you get here?"

"The same way we got here earlier."

"But it's after curfew!"

Tracey raised an eyebrow, "Do you think we respect rules set by little people like Filch?"

"Well, you've never snuck out before."

Daphne laughed, "I suppose not, but then again, I've never considered interrupting my beauty sleep before."

"I'm flattered."

Tracey patted her hand, "We came to see how you're holding up after Draco's..._revelation_."

Maia held back a sob, "Is that what you're calling it?"

Daphne shook her head, "We don't know _what_ to call it. We saw the signs, but we didn't really see it coming, and by the time she'd wormed her way in there, it was too late and he wouldn't hear a word against it. I am so sorry Maia. If we'd just paid more attention, we could have intervened..."

Maia shook her head, "I don't know how he could do this to me."

"I don't know how he could do it to all of us! I don't know how he could betray us all. She made herself your enemy, so we all took her as one as well. Things like that aren't supposed to change. We're Slytherins, you know, we bear grudges for life."

Daphne laughed outright, and Maia managed to smile, at Tracey's matter-of-fact tone. It was true though; Maia had sworn to despise Parkinson for as long as the House of Black stood, and Draco, as her cousin, her all-but-brother and her dynastic ally should have stood by her. While she might condescend to allow Parkinson to eat and walk in her presence, it was never supposed to go beyond that!

If there was anyone in life she thought she could trust implicitly, it would have been Draco. And his betrayal felt like a kick in the gut.

"So how did this happen?"

"Draco was devastated after you were Petrified." Started Daphne.

"Absolutely devastated. We were starting to get really worried about him."

"He was like a walking Imperiai, and Parkinson took advantage. He would go off on his own, and we thought it was best to give him space, to leave him in peace. We didn't realise that she'd started joining him. And oh, she didn't half put on a good show, by all accounts. Seeing you Petrified made her regret all those horrible things she said, and of course, seeing you next to the rest of the mudbloods in here showed her just how different _you_ were to _them_. And she couldn't bear to think of Slytherin divided... Do I need to go on?"

"I get the picture."

Tracey swallowed, "So, one day, he walks into the Common Room and announces we're all friends. Just like that. Well, as you can imagine, Vincent and Gregory just go along with it-"

"-because they're his brought and paid for minions-"

"-and Blaise, Tracey and I protest rather profusely. It made no difference, she's got her claws into him really deep, and he's convinced himself that this makes for a better Slytherin. He's even convinced that this will make you happy as well."

"How, in Salazar's name, did he come to that conclusion?"

"Because he thinks, or she's made him think, that the two of you being friends means that you can put the past behind you, and that that will make you happy."

"And he ignored the three of you?"

"Well, he truly thinks that he's doing this for you, and you ought to know that you easily trump all three of us."

Maia shook her head, "But he's supposed to be my brother! And Daphne, you've known him as long as I have, longer even, and you're still close. You're worth more than her! You have to be worth almost as much as me! And the three of you!"

Tracey shook her head, "I'm sorry. We tried."

Maia sat up, her tears now dry. She listed the rules in her head.

"Well, two can play at her game."

...

Cassiopeia stared into the fire, brooding. The flames flickered low, dancing across the grey ashes and glowing embers. They turned green for a moment and she smirked to herself, as the great Albus Dumbledore emerged from the fire and bowed in greeting, brushing off his robes at the same time.

"Good evening, Professor Black."

"I would prefer Madam Black, if you would be so kind."

"Then I was correct to assume that you wish to resign your position at the end of the year."

"One battle with the Dark Lord is quite enough for me, and it seems that grappling with the forces of evil is a prerequisite for this position, of which I was not informed."

"It would seem so. Yet chance would have it that we already have another willing candidate for the position."

"The half breed, I hear?"

Dumbledore's blue eyes momentarily lost their twinkle, whilst Cassiopeia's sneer was triumphant. The moment passed and Dumbledore inclined his head, "I'm afraid that I'm unaware of any half breed, but a very competent young wizard by the name of Remus Lupin as consented to take up the post."

"That pleases me."

"It does?"

"It seems that dear Caroline and Maia wish to make something of a _pet_ of him, and if he is at Hogwarts, there will be no requirement for me to see or associate with him."

"And the young Miss. Black? You do not object to the increased amount of time she will inevitably spend with him?"

"Of course I object, but you shouldn't assume that I won't be interfering."

"Naturally."

"_Naturally_."

There was a pause, before Dumbledore carefully lowered himself into the chair opposite Cassiopeia. "Pleasantries and small talk aside, I presume you know why I am here."

"Clearly, as I have been waiting for you. Have you spoken to Professor McGonagall?"

"Yes, we have discussed the information in more detail. And we remain agreed that the Dark Lord created a number of Horcruxes, but the difficulty is in assessing the number."

"Three is a powerful magical number."

The Headmaster inclined his head, "And yet we have no idea how many times a man may split his soul. Until now, it was thought only possible to do so once safely, and twice if one wished to be... through."

"The Dark Lord I know would not be content to allow his soul to reside in a book, with only the memories of his sixteen year old self. However many more there are, they will not be so mundane, or poorly protected."

"Agreed."

"Have you made a plan? Do you know how Miss. Weasley came upon the item?"

"To the latter, I do not. All I know for certain was that she has had it since she purchased her school things on Diagon Alley. To the former, Minerva and I will be researching the possibility as to how many it is possible to create. It seems likely that he would make as many as he could. I am afraid that you now have a choice, Madam Black."

"And what would that be?"

"The information we gained is dangerous, it cannot be held lightly."

"I am a skilled occulums, it is a safe secret. The Blacks are adept in Mind Arts, it is in our blood."

"I am aware, but still, I am going to offer you a choice, Madam Black, and I hope you will not be offended. I cannot obliviate you of all of tonight events, of course, but I can take away the knowledge of the Dark Lord's Hor-"

"I shall stop you there, you fool." She spat, leaning forwards in her chair, "You cannot obliviate me of my enemy's weakness, and they _are_ a weakness, because he _can_ be killed and he threatened _my_ House and so he _shall_ be killed. I swore my defiance and the defiance of _my entire House_ to him, and I have no doubt that one day the Dark Lord will return and that he will learn of this. I am not afraid of him, a mere half blood who was foolish enough to think he could trick the likes of _my_ kind into his service. But I will kill him."

"You will stand with us against him?"

"I shall destroy him myself if I can, and stand beside any who has the chance. Do not delude yourself, Dumbledore, I am not about to fall at _your_ feet and revere _your_ muggle-loving mantra. However, I think you will find that the House of Black has more resources regarding the creation of Horcruxes than the library you have here. In fact, I'm rather well-informed on the subject myself."

"Oh? And how would that be?"

"I happen to know someone who made one."

...

By the time the Hogwart's Express pulled into Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Maia's face hurt from her insincere smiles. However, it was pleasing to watch Pansy squirm as she made 'such a friend of her'. Daphne and Tracey were in on the act as well, and between them they had a wonderful time being completely two-faced, knowing that Pansy was well-aware that they most certainly meant the opposite of everything they said. Blaise, of course, knew what they were about and had to spend most of the journey with his head turned towards the window to hide his snigger.

Draco was oblivious and thrilled, confident that his plan really had made his cousin happy. Of course, he would make her even happier by making the Finch-Fletchley mudblood pay, but for that he would have to bide his time.

Maia jumped down from the train carriage, directing Vincent to bring her trunk, and ran into her mother's arms. Yes, it was undignified, but Aunt Narcissa was in a very forgiving mood, as she made no comment and hugged her niece as soon as Caroline had released her.

"Thank Salazar we have you back." She whispered.

Maia turned to Remus Lupin, who she had only just noticed was standing at her mother's side.

Maia curtseyed, "Good evening, Professor Lupin.

Lupin smiled and made a small bow, "Good evening, although as I'm still lodging with your family, perhaps you ought to call me Remus?"

Maia smiled, genuinely this time, "Very well, Remus. I'm pleased to have you with us."

...

Harry James Potter lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He had yet another summer to endure with the Dursleys and it was too soon to start counting down the days. _Six whole weeks_.

At least Dobby wouldn't be stealing his post this summer. He sighed, it might be bad, but his lot wasn't as awful as Dobby's. The Dursleys were better than the Malfoys after all. He wondered if there was any way he could rescue the rather odd House Elf. He'd love to see Malfoy's face when he had to fend for himself...

A slight tapping at the window made his look up, and he rushed over to open it before it woke his aunt and uncle up. The cold night air filled the room and he shuddered, just as the owl swept over and landed on the perch next to Hedwig. He didn't recognise the owl, or the handwriting on the two letters attached to its leg. One was rather pointy and small, but neat and even all the same, while the other was an elaborate form of cursive that looked as though it belonged on a prop on one of the day-time Victorian melodramas his aunt was so fond of watching on TV.

He opened the latter letter first.

_Dear Mr. Harry James Potter,_

_I am writing to express my gratitude for your bravery and noble actions in the Chamber of Secrets. While I do not owe you a personal life debt, I do owe you a debt of honour, as it was thanks to your actions that revenge was taken upon the beast which attacked me. Should you wish it, I am now at your service until we are both satisfied that the debt has been repaid. _

_As we have not been introduced as blood-kin, I now put myself to you as your second cousin three times removed. We share the mutual ancestor Phineas Nigellus Black (1847-1925) who, as I am sure you are aware, was an esteemed academic and Headmaster of Hogwarts School. _

_Yours in blood,_

_Miss. Maia Violetta Black, Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black._

Harry stared at the letter, open-mouthed, and blinked three times in quick succession. It was all there in black and white. It was there. It wasn't a dream. He was related to Black? Did that mean he was related to Malfoy?* And what an earth was a debt of honour? He blinked again and put the letter aside, he'd think about it in the morning when his world didn't feel like it had just been turned upside down.

Opening the second letter, he let out a sigh of relief. From the first line, it was clear that whoever this was did not have the same, strange world view as Black and Malfoy's lot.

_Dear Harry,_

_Please allow me to take the liberty of calling you by your first name. I was at your Christening, after all, and I did watch you embarrass your mother by screaming when the vicar splashed you with the water. _

_I was close to both your mother and father at school, and would like to tell you that they were both wonderful friends and very good, very decent people. While I drifted away from them after school, we remained in touch and I did attend your Christening. It was very clear how much your mother and father loved you. You meant everything to them._

_As you know, Christening is a muggle custom, and you would have laughed to watch your mother explain the tradition to your pureblood father. He was so very worried that you might accidentally be drowned that he wanted to cast the bubblehead charm on you, although in the end he settled for a warming charm and a water-repelling charm. You still bawled throughout the service though._

_I am afraid that most of my memories of them come from while they were still in school. Your mother was academic and studious. She excelled at Charms and Potions, and we were prefects together in our fifth year. She had a very clear sense of right and wrong and she would have been very proud of what you did in the Chamber, once she had calmed down. Wherever she is now, I'm sure she was biting her nails and cheering you on at the same time._

_Your father, of course, would have been itching to join you. He never was one to sit on the sidelines when something had to be done. I once remember your father standing up to a gang of Slytherin third years during our first term at school, when he saw them bullying a muggleborn first year from Ravenclaw. We all ended up spending the night in the Hospital Wing, but it when then that I knew what I good man your father would grow up to be. _

_He was one of the funniest people I ever met, and he loved your mother very much. He spent most of our school days asking her out. He was very determined. He was made Head Boy in our final year (which I was a little surprised about, I will admit) but he carried out his duties fairly and faithfully. _

_You look remarkably like your father, Harry, but I know that you are your own person, and will walk your own path. Regardless of this, you will be just as good a man as your father when you grow up._

_I'm sorry that I can't tell you more about them after they left Hogwarts, but if you ever have any questions that you would like to ask, please feel free to do so at any time. _

_I also understand that Maia will be sending you her own letter. She has spent rather a long time on it, given her increasingly bad mood, her constant referencing of 'A Guide to Correspondence Etiquette for Well-Born Young Witches' and the growing pile of discarded parchment in the bin. I believe she is writing you a thank you letter, which I hope you will accept. I remember the Gryffindor/Slytherin rivalry from my own days at school, yet still hope that there is a chance that the two Houses will one day be on civil terms. Perhaps the two of you could start a new trend? I'm not going to pretend that her thanks are gracious, or even sincere, but her mother has insisted she write to you, and perhaps we can consider this a step in the right direction._

_With my very best wishes,_

_Remus Lupin._

Harry did not go to sleep at all that night. Instead, he stayed awake, re-reading every sentence about his mother and father until he had them memorised. And he re-read the letter again every night before he went to bed for the rest of the holidays, so that when the land of Nod finally claimed him, he dreamt of his laughing father and smiling mother all the way through 'til dawn.

...

***According to the family tree that I've drawn up, Draco and Harry are fourth cousins, once removed, which is based on additions to (and artistic license with) the one provided by J.K. Rowling, as Harry isn't descended from Dorea and Charlus Potter in this story. If you do want to know how Harry is linked to the House of Black, it's explained in C.46.**

**As for the Horcrux in the House of Black, who do you think made it? : )**

**Also, for those of you who wanted to know why Maia was Petrified for 'almost eight months'... British schools tend to run from the beginning of September to mid/late July, give or take. In this story, Maia was Petrified at the very beginning of November (along with J.F-F and Sir. N) and awoken during the last week of term. Therefore, she would have been Petrified for just over seven months, hence, when they're speaking to each other 'almost eight months'. **

**The next update will be in one week.**


	66. There Is A Distance Between Us

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Sixty Six_ There is a Distance Between Us_

Maia's summer was progressing unlike any summer ever had before, as far back as she could remember.

And she was most displeased about it.

So far she had spent every single day studying. She didn't want to fall behind in class – she couldn't allow people to doubt the fact – and it _was_ a fact – that the Blacks were perfection personified – but the extent to which her Aunt Cassiopeia was forcing her to study was relentless, and Remus was little better.

Her life had fallen into a most unwelcome routine.

She rose at 6 am every day, had breakfast and then began her morning lessons with Remus. From 7.30 to 8.30 she studied Transfiguration, from 8.30 to 9.30 she studied Charms, from 9.30 to 10.30 she studied A History of Magic and from 10.30 to 11.30 she studied Potions. From 11.30 to 13.00 she had lunch with her mother and Remus on Mondays to Wednesdays, and on Thursdays to Saturdays with her Aunt Cassiopeia. They had struck a rather specific custody arrangement over her, it seemed.

_Then_, afternoon lessons would continue with Aunt Cassiopeia. From 13.00 to 14.00 she studied Herbology, from 14.00 to 15.00 she studied French, from 15.00 to 16.00 she studied Latin and from 16.00 to 17.00 she studied Gobbledegook.

_And then_ it went on, from 17.00 to 19.00 she was either forced to dance, paint, sing, play the piano or the harp, or practise her skills as a conversationalist (which in the House of Black was code for her skills as a manipulator).

The only day she got off was Sundays, and even then, she was so tired that she didn't have the energy to do anything beyond Floo to Malfoy Manor and complain about her lot. Draco was, in true brotherly fashion, most sympathetic and Aunt Narcissa equally so. Uncle Lucius was being more unpleasant than ever, but nobody seemed willing to talk about it. Draco swore he was ignorant on the subject.

And even then, her Sundays were not always free. She often found herself answering long letters from Granger regarding one obscure magical theory or another. In truth, she liked these intellectual challenges more than her lessons. They were something new and different, and gave her a chance to think outside the box, but the knowledge that she was writing to Granger was... unsettling. After all, she didn't want to be Granger's friend. She had her own friends, and taking up Granger again would not go down well with the image and standing which she had carefully cultivated within Slytherin House. But still, the conversation with Granger was so... refreshing. Maia had resolved to keep the whole thing quiet.

Another issue which often occupied her Sunday leisure hours was that of Pansy Parkinson. Draco had exchanged a few letters with the girl, and Maia knew because she had read them, and each word confirmed her opinion that Parkinson was a sycophant.

A sycophant who looked like a toad.

But, she had been trained like a Black for a reason, and they moved their pieces slowly on the chessboard. And she did enjoying knowing that with everyday that passed, Parkinson would be lulled further and further into a false sense of security.

_She wouldn't know what hit her_.

...

The mid-morning sunshine cast a bright hue over Greengrass Manor, making its sandstone facade glow. The Grecian columns of the pavilion were decked with delicate lilies, while a string quartet played soft, elegant music which magically drifted throughout the pleasure gardens.

The good and the great – and there were considerably more of the former than the latter – of the wizarding world mingled and nodded and smiled as delicate canapés and expensive champagne was served.

Mr. Greengrass, the younger son of the current Head of the House of Greengrass, was standing for re-election in the Commons seat of the Wizengamot. Hence the grand show.

Maia, arm in arm with Draco, walked amidst the chattering adults. Now that she was thirteen, she was no longer allowed to wear her hair loose in public, according to her Aunts Cassiopeia and Narcissa. Her black hair had been braided into a low bun and a straw hat with a wide, pastel blue ribbon rested on her head and the ribbon trailed down her back. She'd also been put – as a good representative of her House, she had no choice in what she wore – into a long, white muslin robe with dainty blue flowers embroidered into the fabric. As it was summer, she wore short sleeves and a pair of lace gloves. She was rather pleased at the full length of her robe and the bun resting along the base of her neck. She was growing into an adult, a grown up witch.

In four years time she would come into her majority and take over as Head of the House of Black.

Draco had been put into a set of sombre dress robes - it seemed only witches were allowed to alter their robes with the seasons - and his hair had been drastically trimmed the day before.

"Mother says that I can't have it long any more, it looks wrong, considering that father is still our Head of House. I can't have long hair until I'm the Head."

Maia looked around and smirked, "Well, I shan't complain. I like the tradition, it makes looking for people worth talking to in these places so much easier."

Draco turned up his nose after they walked past a small, nervous-looking group, "Yes, I agree on that count. It seems the middle classes are among us today."

"Well, Mr. Greengrass _does_ need a majority, I suppose."

"Yes, but it just isn't _right_ to invite them, they're nervous, and they set my teeth on edge. It wouldn't all be much easier if we stuck to our own kind."

Maia nodded, not wishing to mention the _lower sort _(in the form on Parkinson and Bulstrode) with whom he recently been mixing, before tapping Draco's hand, "Oh look, Draco, there's Daphne and Tracey!"

Two very pretty girls, whose hair looked rather golden in the sun, made their way towards them. Both girls were dressed in a similar fashion to Maia, as were all the witches, truth be told, although Daphne had favoured pastel green and Tracey a peachy colour that went well with her rosy cheeks. The bows, curtsies and pleasantries were quickly exchanged.

"How is your father's campaign going?" Asked Draco.

"Oh, rather well, I think." Said Daphne, with a well-practised smile, "Father has put forward a number of very well-received proposals in his election manifesto."

"Well, you can be sure of a vote from the House of Black."

"And the House of Malfoy."

Maia paused, "It does seem such a waste that your father has to go through all this electoral nonsense, when we all know that he's the best man for the job."

"Yes, well, it is a democracy." Said Tracey easily, "Father's thinking of standing in a few years himself, once he tires of civil service."

"Oh, how splendid." Said Maia, while Draco carefully chose not to comment.

"Do you know what I heard?" Said Daphe, leaning forwards and beckoning them closer, "_I_ heard that there was talk of abolishing the hereditary Noble seats and just having everyone elected like the Commons."

Maia and Draco both looked perfectly scandalised.

"They'll never do it!"

"They couldn't!"

"We'd turn out like France!"

"Like America!"

"We'd end up with a... a... a _Republic!_"

"I know." Said Daphne solemnly, shaking her head and not quite hiding the grin at the reaction to her gossip.

Tracey smiled, "I wonder how tiresome it must be for Her Majesty, to pretend that she's a muggle?"

"And those poor princes, having to go to Eton instead of Hogwarts for the sake of the statute."

"They had the very best tutors though."

"But still..."

A touch of her elbow made Maia turn round, and she saw Marcus Flint standing behind her. "Might I have a word, Black?"

...

Caroline Black, Cassiopeia Black and Narcissa Malfoy had taken over one of the tables near to the tea service, and nobody who knew anything about the hierarchy of the wizarding world was going to suggest they move.

The ribbon of Caroline's hat fluttered in the breeze, while Narcissa carelessly twirled the parasol she used to shield her complexion from the sun. Reaching out with a lace-gloved hand, she picked up her tea cup and took a sip.

"So you aren't going to tell me the details of the quarrel?" Asked Narcissia.

"No, Narcissa." Said Cassiopeia. Her chair was angled slightly away from the other two women, so that she could better keep an eye on Maia, the other children, and the peacock-loving traitor.

"And you won't tell me either, Caroline?"

Caroline shook her head, "I'm afraid not. It is nothing against you, Narcissa, but I simply cannot speak of it."

"But why ever not?"

"It wouldn't be right."

Narcissa paused, "But there is still... a distance between the two of you."

Cassiopeia answered without turning her head from her observations, "We are resolving our issues like mature adults. We are taking our time."

"But you have no plans to move back to Black Rose House as yet, Caroline?"

Caroline took a sip of her tea, "No, not as yet."

Narcissa paused, "Very well, would someone please explain the quarrel with my-"All conversation stopped as a server walked past, "the quarrel with my husband."

Caroline frowned, "I have no quarrel with Lucius, Narcissa."

"Cassiopeia?"

"There is no quarrel."

"I'm not a fool, Cassiopeia."

"I should hope not."

"I would simply like to know-"

"-there is nothing to know."

"So we are still united?"

"Of course."

Caroline leant forwards, "Is there something I should-"

The conversation stopped as Mr. Greengrass MW* approached. He bowed deeply to the three women, "Thank you for coming this afternoon."

"It's our pleasure." Said Cassiopeia, whilst her two companions voiced their agreement.

He smiled, "And I trust I can count on your votes?"

There was polite laughter. Cassiopeia's and Narcissa's votes were a given, and it was conveniently forgotten that Caroline, as a muggle, could not vote.

Suddenly, a shadow passed over the sky. Almost a hundred express owls swopped over the party, landing next to various important-looking men and women. One landed on the vacant chair next to Cassiopeia. The letter was addressed to Mr. Greengrass MW.

He raised an eyebrow and gestured to the letter, "Ladies, do you mind...?" His voice trailed away with the question.

"Be my guest, Mr. Greengrass." Said Narcissa, gesturing vaguely towards the letter.

He reached forwards, untied the letter, and broke the seal of the parchment.

Barely a moment passed.

"Sweet Merlin, save us!"

The three women looked up.

"What is the matter?" asked Caroline frowning. She looked around the party, where men and women were now looking around themselves in horror. Their faces were ashen. She was sure she saw a few people crying.

Mr. Greengrass turned slowly, and looked Cassiopeia directly in the eye, "Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban."

...

**Yes, Sirius Black has escaped from prison. I know this is the moment you've all been waiting for, so I hope you're happy with it! As ever, comments are always welcome. **

*** In terms of politics, the Queen and the royal family are witches and wizards and the Wizengamot is modelled on the House of Commons and the House of Lords, although here it is smaller and the two Houses sit and debate together, and are called the House of Commons and House of Nobles respectively. The letters MW after Mr. Greengrass' name stand for Member of Wizengamot, in the same way the letters MP follow the names of British politicians who sit in parliament. Also, the House of Lords has undergone a number of reforms in recent years, of course, so no longer mirrors the House of Nobles where the hereditary principle still applies, but there you go... Just an insight into how I imagine magical politics to work. : ) **

**Best wishes,**

**R&L.**


	67. That Which We Hold Dear

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Sixty Seven_ – That Which We Hold Dear_

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand you, Flint." Said Maia, as she tilted her head back coldly, jutting out her chin.

As the pleasant party continued around them, Marcus Flint scuffed his foot and pushed his hand back through his hair.

"And kindly stand up straight while you're talking to me, I don't appreciate coarseness or vulgarity." She glared at him as he finally looked up at her.

"You heard what I said, Black. There won't be a place for you on the team this year."

"Yes, that's exactly _my_ point. That's what I don't understand."

"Don't make me explain again, can you not just be reasonable about this?"

"I think it's perfectly reasonable to expect a place on a team where one's uncle, where one's own family money, has supplied all of the aforementioned team's brooms."

"I've already spoken to your uncle, Maia. I have his permission to make any changes to the team which I feel are necessary."

"You're lying." She snapped.

"I'm afraid not, he doesn't want us to risk losing the cup. Draco came to me a while after you were Petrified, at the urging of a friend, and insisted that he be allowed to try out for Keeper. He was unstoppable, Black. He'll easily give Wood a run for his money, even if he is only a third year. Well, I couldn't very well put him back as Seeker after that, and with you down we needed a Chaser, and that's always been my strongest position, and I'm the Captain so I can hardly throw myself off the team." He said.

"Then throw Adrian or Teddy off the team."

"You know I can't do that. They're both better than you, and I'm hardly going to insult the Pucey family when I want to try out for the Magpies."

"Very well, I'll play Seeker."

"It's not your position though, is it? You're a Chaser, Black, and it's like I've said before, you're a good player, but you're not phenomenal and you're not a game changer. I need a Seeker who can go up against Potter, and that's not you."

"Who do you have in mind?"

"That's none of your concern."

"I assure you, it is-"

A passing shadow and a flurry of owls and letters cut Maia off. She and Flint looked around in confusion, wondering what on earth was going on. Then a shriek filled the air, followed by a piercing scream and the thud of a fainting body hitting the soft, green grass.

"In Slytherin's name-"

Maia felt a hand roughly grab her and turned round to see her aunt gripping her arm tightly.

"We're leaving. Now."

And with a much louder 'pop' than usual, Cassiopeia Black vanished.

...

Maia stumbled when she reappeared in Black Rose House. She went first to her mother, who looked pale, drawn and dangerously frail.

"Mother, what's the matter? Are you ill?" Maia's stomach tightened, but a soft hand pulled her back and rubbed her shoulder.

"She's just had a shock, Maia, dear. Just give her a moment."

Maia looked up to see Aunt Narcissa, whose normally gracious smile had become very thin, "Are you sure, Aunt Narcissa? Quite sure?"

"Very sure."

"Then what's happened?" Now that she looked around, she saw that her whole family was here; Aunt Narcissa, Uncle Lucius and Draco, as well as her mother and Aunt Cassiopeia.

Aunt Cassiopeia turned to face her, "That's none of your concern. Take off your hat, Maia. You're indoors now, and don't stand there gawping like a mudblood. What's rule number two?"

"Decorum at all times." She intoned.

Caroline looked up, "Please don't use language like that in front of _my _daughter."

Cassiopeia rolled her eyes, "Will you not make exceptions for periods of great stress?"

Caroline laughed weakly, the first time she had laughed with Cassiopeia since Maia had woken up, and said, "I suppose so."

Suddenly, Draco spoke up. "So is it true?"

"Is what true?" Asked Maia, turning to her cousin.

Draco turned to his father, "Is it true that Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban?"

...

A large, black dog, which looked oddly like a Grim, did another slow lap around the ramshackle cottage. His movements were slow and laboured, and his breathing shallow. Eventually, he came to a halt by a half-broken gate, stared up at the sky and howled.

Though it didn't sound much like a howl.

It sounded like a man crying.

Sirius had known that it would be a fruitless journey, but he had come here anyway, just in case. But he knew, deep down, that Moony would not stay here after everything that had happened.

Why would he stay in a house where he used to drink and laugh with his four best friends – Padfoot, Wormtail, Prongs and Lily – when the first had killed the latter? Or at least, when that was what he thought?

Why would he raise a child in a home where his parents' murderer had slept and eaten and drank?

Of course he wouldn't.

But Padfoot had still come.

He had still hoped.

Because he had to warn Moony.

Moony had Harry, and they had to keep Harry safe.

They had to keep Harry safe from _him_.

It was his new mantra.

They had to keep Harry safe.

They had to keep Harry safe.

They had to keep Harry safe.

The dog howled again, then its head sagged between its forelegs.

His Annie should have been safe.

But he would keep Harry safe from _him_.

...

Maia turned to her mother, "Is it true?"

It was her Aunt Cassiopeia who answered, when her mother just covered her eyes with her hand.

"Yes, Maia, it's true."

"That's not good for us... politically, is it?"

Lucius let out a snort of laughter, "No, it's not."

Cassiopeia looked up sharply, "Hold your tongue, Lucius, because if I can't be sure of your loyalty, I'm going to either cut it out or ask you to leave."

Lucius inclined his head, and replied smoothly, "My loyalty is without question."

Cassiopeia sneered, "Such a convincing liar."

Maia and Draco stared at each other across the room _– what was going on?_

And Maia couldn't help but wonder if Uncle Lucius had made _sure_ that she would be kicked off the team. And then reprimanded herself. A crazed mass-murderer who happened to be the technical Head of her House was on the loose and half, no, all, of wizarding Britain was going to be panicking. They would all be investigated. Their name would be tarnished. She had many more important things to think about than Flint's mistake in throwing her off the team...

Suddenly, a sharp voice rang out. "Enough of this. Not now. We don't even know when the Ministry will come and we can't be found like this. Cassiopeia, what are you going to do?"

They all turned to stare and the usually softly spoken Narcissa Malfoy, while Cassiopeia answered, "I'm going to summon the House Council. _All of it_."

...

**Hello, I had a lovely long review for the last chapter and I'm going to respond to some of it here. Mainly, I'm going to answer some of the questions, but not give away any spoilers.**

**The following characters (up to this moment in the story) are aware of Maia's true identity:**

**Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Remus Lupin, Cassiopeia Black, Caroline Black and Marius Black (d.)**

**Dumbledore **_**didn't**_** file everything through the proper channels. Annabelle's death was faked (Chapters 53-54). As far as the Ministry are aware, Annabelle Black died along with her aunt, Elena McKinnon, shortly after the fall of Lord Voldemort (around the time the Longbottoms were attacked). Narcissa and Lucius are aware of this story and believe it. **

**Sorry, this story is a rather elaborate web of lies!**

**Also, I'm curious. To whom do you think the Horcrux in the House of Black belongs? I would also just like to specify that this is not Slytherin's locket. In Chapter 64, Cassiopeia states that Dumbledore should leave the Horcrux research to her, as she knows someone who made one. As she didn't even know Voldemort had Horcruxes until a few hours ago, she'd referring to someone else... : ) **


	68. The Summoning

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Sixty Eight_ – The Summoning_

Irma Crabbe turned her head away, "I am displeased, Filtha."

"Filtha is being sorry, Mistress. Filtha is being very, very-"

"Silence." Snapped the witch, slamming her hand on the table. "I do not want to hear-"

A piece of parchment suddenly appeared on the table next to her hand.

She frowned and unfolded the parchment. She had not even finished reading the words, before she suddenly vanished.

...

Nymphadora Tonks read the memo on her desk six times over and swore. Badly.

This was not what a trainee auror needed.

This was really not what _she_ needed.

Amos Diggory spun his chair round and tapped her on her shoulder. She turned towards him and tried to keep the grimace off her face.

"How are you holding up, cadet?"

She looked around the room, "They're all staring at me."

He smiled and tried to look sympathetic, "It'll pass."

Unconvinced and still looking around the room, she suddenly frowned, "What's Mad-Eye doing here?"

Diggory followed her gaze, and they watched the battle-hardened man stomp into Kirkwood's office. "I have no idea..."

Tonks shrugged and looked back down at the memo, hating it with everything she had in her. She hated _him_ with everything she had in her.

She reached down to pick it up, but found that she must have picked up a different one by mistake. And this memo made no sense at all. And the handwriting was very odd.

And Amos Diggory leapt to his feet and drew his wand, just as his cadet vanished into thin air.

...

Druella Black watched listlessly as her fingers danced over the piano keys. She felt more listless than ever these days. She had aged beyond her years. She was not so very old, and yet her looks had faded and her hair had thinned and greyed.

She glanced up at photo of her dear Cygnus and sighed. She stopped playing abruptly and reached over the polished wood of the piano, picking up the heavy silver frame. She stared at his face for a long moment, remembering how it used to be. She turned it over to see a slip of parchment tucked into the back.

She didn't remember putting anything there...

And then she vanished as well.

...

Andromeda Black pointed her wand at the radio, and watched with not a small amount of satisfaction as it exploded into a hundred thousand tiny pieces.

She didn't want to listen to another word.

Because it hurt, even after all these years.

She thought he was different.

She thought he was like her.

But the Blacks were very good liars.

She walked over to the scorched side table, wondering if a simple _reparo_ would do the job, when she reached down and picked up a folded piece of parchment. She only had enough time to curse after reading the words, before she disappeared.

...

Ted Tonks smiled down at his patient and patted the small boy on the head. The boy gave him a rather toothless grin in return. In fact, the boy had no teeth at all.

"So, Jacob, what did you learn today?"

"I down' pwlay' wi' mammy' wan'."

"No, you don't. And why not?"

"Becaw' I' wanish'd m' teeth."

"Good lad." Ted laughed again and turned to the boy's mother, "Luckily for your son, he's still a tad too young for theeth-gro, which, and I tell you from experience, is worse than skele-gro." He paused and added, "I used to play Beater at Hogwarts." by way of explanation.

The mother cringed. It didn't take much to work out what had happened.

Ted shrugged, "Anyway, Jacob here will need some slower acting potions. We'll have to keep him in for a couple of days while they do their work, but he'll be perfectly fine."

"Thank you, Healer Tonks. I just can't believe he got into such a scrape!"

He shook his head and laughed from his round belly, "Oh no, my girl makes him look like an amateur. When I think of all the times I had to bring her in here... Well, it was a standing joke that I never had a day off 'til she got to Hogwarts."

Ted excused himself from the bedside, and started to re-read the notes on his next patient, when an odd piece of parchment appeared on his clipboard in front of him.

_You are summoned to a meeting of the House Council_.

And then he vanished from the middle of the ward.

...

**I know it's a short chapter, but I really think that this way works better, as a build-up for what's about to come next. **

**Which is... more drama for the House of Black!**

**As it is so short, the next update will be tomorrow. : )**

**Thank you for all the kind reviews and comments, they're always welcome! (And constructive criticism is particularly appreciated). **


	69. The Council

**I do not own Harry Potter**

**A/N – In response to a review, Draco, Narcissa et al. weren't summoned because they were already there. **

_"Fredo, you're my older brother, and I love you. But don't ever take sides with anyone against the family again. Ever." – The Godfather, Part One_

Chapter Sixty Nine_– The Council_

Tonks drew her wand as she turned, surveying her surroundings.

At the cry of 'expelliarmus' she ducked, twisted her body round to face her attacker and sent a stunner as she moved. The stunner missed, shattering a vase, and a curse was aimed at her direction. She blocked it with ease.

A loud 'bang' filled the air, and Tonks spun again to see her mother with her wand held aloft. "That is _quite_ enough, both of you."

Tonks frowned, and took a moment to look around her. She could see the Malfoys standing to one side, sneering of course. Her mother and her father were stood on the opposite side of the hallway, her father grinning at her. Two older women stood further back, with hard expressions on their faces, while an elderly woman in muggle clothing held two children behind her. The last woman in front of her was her opponent.

"She attacked me first, Andromeda."

Tonks kept her wand in position, "Well, what do you expect when you _abduct_ an auror from their desk?"

Her attacker raised an eyebrow, "Shouldn't you be more concerned that I was able to abduct you in the first place?"

"Are you going to tell me how you did it then? The Ministry is the second most warded building in the UK, after Hogwarts."

"If your mother had had the decency to marry well, you would already know, Miss. _Tonks_."

Tonks was about to cast another curse when a shield sprang up between the two women. _It wouldn't block an A.K... _

Her mother stepped forwards, her eyes fixed on the blood-purist, "Are you _quite_ finished?"

She began to retort when the muggle-clad woman stepped forwards, "I think they _both _are." She inclined her head to her mother, who returned the gestured and lowered her wand. Slowly, Tonks and her opponent put theirs away at the same time, never taking their eyes off each other.

"So would somebody like to tell me what in Helga's name is going on?"

Her father grinned further, while every other person in the room flinched.Tonks smirked inwardly, the quickest way to out the Slytherins was to make it clear you were a 'Puff.

Her opponent stepped forwards, "My name is Cassiopeia Black, and I am your Head of House."

Tonks shook her head, "Nope, sorry. You must have the wrong person. I don't buy into all that."

She heard chocking sounds behind her, and saw her father with a hand clasped over his mouth. Another glance told her that the two elderly women were fighting the urge to reach for their wands.

"Well luckily for you, no financial transaction is required." Said Cassiopeia, drawing herself back up to her full, stately height. "So, now that we've got the introductions out of the way, I suggest we proceed to the dining room to convene-"

"Well, I don't know why I'm here." Snapped Tonks.

"And neither do I." Added her father, slightly more cordially.

Andromeda went back to her husband, and linked her arm through his, "I'll explain in the dining room, darling..."

With that, the adults all began to move away. Tonks brought up the rear, looking distinctly disgruntled but not having much choice in the matter. She'd realised now that she was stuck with her mother's crazed family, and she was going to get to leave until she was dismissed. Or she infuriated them so much they threw her out...

Caroline turned round to Maia and Draco, holding out a hand to stop them as they automatically followed.

"No, Maia, Draco, this isn't a meeting for children."

Maia bristled, but Draco got there first with a sneer, "You can't stop us. We're the Heirs, we have a right to be there for House Councils."

Caroline smiled kindly and shook her head, "Not until you're of age. I know it's frustrating, but you are still too young for such a meeting-"

"-But mother, he could tarnish the House reputation! This is important! I must attend, we both must!"

"Maia Violetta, what does a daughter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black _not_ do to her elders?"

"She doesn't interrupt them."

"And what _does_ she do?"

Maia let out a long sigh, "She obeys them."

"Then off you go, both of you."

And then Caroline left, making her own way to the dining room.

And the two Heirs scowled at her retreating form.

...

"So why are my family and I here? I was under the impression that we were disowned?"

Cassiopeia, sitting at the head of the long mahogany table, turned to Andromeda. "You were, but I am willing to reinstate you, and recognise your husband and daughter, in return for an oath of loyalty."

"What's the catch?"

"Who said there's a catch?"

"There's always a catch in families like ours."

"There is no catch. I simply want the oath of loyalty. I want your daughter and husband to serve, and in turn be recognised, by our House. I'm simply moving with the times, Andromeda."

Druella chocked on her loose leaf tea, "_I'll_ never recognise them! You betrayed us and broke my heart-"

"-You never had a heart to break-"

"-You threw everything away-"

"-I didn't want anything _you_ had to give!"

"_You filthy mudblood-loving blood traitor!_"

Ted stood up and slammed his hand on the table, making all the china jump and rattle. "You will neither take that tone with, nor raise your voice to, my wife." All traces of his joviality had vanished. His features were uncharacteristically grave as he sat back down.

Narcissa glanced up at him, faintly surprised, whilst Lucius smirked and Irma sneered.

"You should be grateful _your existence_ is even acknowledged, _mudblood_."

Tonks stood this time, and Caroline leant forwards, and Cassiopeia opened her mouth, whilst Narcissa sat up straighter and calmly laid the palm of her hand down upon the table. "I wish to be heard

"I'm glad someone remembers proper procedure." Snapped Cassiopeia, gesturing with her hand.

The rest of the House sat – Tonks was last – whilst Narcissa rose from her seat. "I am grateful to be heard." She did not glance towards her husband, but looked directly and her mother and grandmother. "I would firstly like to express my joy that I will once again have my eldest sister returned to me. As we now have a half-blood as our Heir, it is only fitting that Miss. Tonks be recognised as well. And I would secondly like to report a matter of House Treachery."

...

"YOU WILL GET OUT OF MY SIGHT AND NEVER RETURN! I WILL CURSE YOU TO THE NINTH CIRCLE! I WILL CURSE YOU TO TARTARUS! I WILL BURN EVERY TRACE OF YOU OFF EVERY TAPESTRY IN THIS HOUSE! BY THE TIME I AM DONE YOUR VERY NAME ITSELF WILL BE A CURSE! NOBODY BETRAYS ME! NOBODY!" Cassiopeia roared, slamming the door behind the two women with a wave of her wand and sinking back into her chair, taking deep, steadying breaths.

Across the table, Narcissa's and Andromeda's eyes met, and they nodded to each other.

Cassiopeia took another breath, "Narcissa, I must thank you for your loyalty. Lucius, I know you were tempted. Narcissa does not have to tell me that. But I thank you for knowing better, regardless. You are my nephew, and I respect you. As long as you never go against this family, I will forgive you anything." Their eyes met, but they did not acknowledge each other. They both knew that the line of forgiveness had already been crossed.

_Rule Four:_ _It's not the truth, but the appearance that counts. _

...

"Really, Miss. Tonks, it's quite simple-"

"- And another thing, it's not _Miss_. Tonks, it's _Cadet_ Tonks."

Cassiopeia's eyes flashed, "Very well, _Cadet_ Tonks, it's quite simple. You simply swear loyalty to the House of Black, and you'll no longer be disowned-"

"-I thought I made it quite clear that I _like_ being disowned."

"Oh for Salazar's sake, it's little more than an oath to not murder us all in our sleep, and it's not even magically binding. Your father's done it already-"

"-Yes, but he always does what mother tells him."

Her father coughed, while her mother leant forwards, "_Nymphadora_-"

Tonks put her face in her hands,"_Fine_, I'll do it."

Her mother sat up, "Really? Well that was surprisingly easy."

Tonks shrugged, "Yeah, well whenever you call me by that Merlin-awful name, I know you mean business, and so I might as well give up now than keep arguing for the next hour. Besides, it'll make you happy, won't it?"

Andromeda nodded, "Yes, it would. This is my family."

"Even though their all blood-purist sociopaths?"

Her mother nodded again, smiling slightly this time.

Tonks held her hand out towards Cassiopeia, "Well, make it quick and we can put it in my repressed memory box."

...

Taking a deep breath, Cassiopeia spoke again, "And _now_ we may _finally_ discuss Sirius Black."

Ted frowned, "Surely it's simple, you give an interview with the Prophet, condemning the murdering blackguard."

Caroline sighed, "I wish it _was_ that simple..."

...

Narcissa smiled, "So Maia is actually a pureblood. Oh, but that's simply marvellous!" She fought the urge to clap her hand with delight.

Andromeda raised an eyebrow at her sister, "Surely you don't _still_ think that that's the be all and end all of her existence."

Ted patted his wife's hand, "To be perfectly blunt, she may have been better off with the world thinking her father was a Squib. It might be a scandal in_ some_ circles, but nowhere near as great as having a mass murderer, who, by all accounts, orchestrated the murder of his wife and two closest friends. I'm sorry, but I pity the girl."

Tonks leant back in her chair and rubbed her temples, "So do I."

Caroline cleared her throat, "Marius was her father in every way that mattered."

"Add no Black ever needs pity." said Cassiopeia.

Lucius' lip curled, "Exactly, and besides, I'm not sure if being half McKinnon is anything to boast about."

Narcissa turned to her husband, "Really, Lucius, how can you be so cold? Seeing as you helped to slaughter them, children and all, you could at least have the good grace to respect their names when they're dead."

Andromeda flushed, and could barely keep the smirk off her face. Ted kicked her under the table.

Tonks drained her tea in one cup, and wished to Merlin that it was coffee. She was starting to wonder if disownment was preferable to sitting in the same room as Lucius-bleeding-Malfoy. Imperius curse, her rotting, disembowelled potions ingredients! She took a deep breath, and ploughed on with the conversation that interested her the most, "But she, Maia, has no idea? And what was her real name? I ought to check on these documents. And how did they end up in the Ministry?"

"Her name was Annabelle. Annabelle Lily Black. Annabelle for Marlene's elder sister, who'd already been killed by Death Eaters at that point, and Lily for Lily Potter, Maia's godmother."

Tonks pursed her lips, a feeling of dread settling in her stomach. "Yes, but how did you fake it all? How do you fake something like that? Without anyone ever finding out?"

Caroline looked down at her hands, "We faked a death certificate, and an Auror investigation report. It was made to look as if Elena McKinnon escaped the raid on the McKinnon Clan, and took the Maia – Annabelle - into hiding with her. In the aftermath of the Dark Lord's fall, they were uncovered and murdered by Death Eaters looking for their master. Dumbledore did it, and got an old friend in the Auror Office to plant the file. There was so much chaos and confusion, nobody ever noticed. Apparently his contact was particularly trusted, and was able to brush aside any attention it might have otherwise gained. I think a few Order members might have held a memorial..."

Andromeda nodded, "Yes, I was there." She sighed, "There weren't many of us. Everyone was still reeling in shock from what had happened to the Potters and the Longbottoms."

Suddenly, a tea cup rattled on its plate, "Oh Merlin..." whispered Narcissa. Her hands were shaking.

Lucius, paler than normal, covered her hands with his own. All his anger was forgotten, because when he looked at his wife's face, he remembered the name as well. He hesitated before he spoke, "Darling? Do I recall correctly?"

Narcissa nodded.

"What are you two about? What is going on?"

Narcissa raised her head slowly, and answered in a thin voice, "I told Sirius his daughter was dead."

"When?"

"About six years ago, when I went to visit Bellatrix. He stopped me as I was leaving, and begged to know what had happened to a child called Annie. Well, I went to the Ministry, and saw... and sent him the file."

Caroline visibly relaxed, "Then she's safe, he won't think to look for her."

Tonks cleared her throat, "But the Ministry will."

Cassiopeia leant forwards, "You swore an oath not an hour ago, you can't be thinking of treachery already." Her voice was dripping with menace.

Tonks shook her head, "I mean that poor little girl no harm. But I'd bet my bottom knut that the contact was Alastor Moody."

"So?"

Tonks paused, "Moody hates all Death Eaters. All of them. And there's nothing he won't do to make sure Black ends up back in Azkaban where he belongs."

"What do you mean, Nymphadora?"

"I mean, that I saw him in the Auror Office before I was summoned here, and that I'm sure he was about to confess."

...

**The next update will be posted in one week.**


	70. Deception Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Seventy_ Deception Makes The Heart Grow Fonder_

Lucius Malfoy sat back his chair and surveyed the scene in front of him. He would never have guessed.

Never.

The Squib-spawn was a pureblood.

Well, clearly there _was_ a case to be made for nurture over nature.

Anyway, given that he had no doubts that Cassiopeia would follow through on her threats to disown Irma and Druella, he was at least pleased that she was still stuck with him. After all, he now knew that her _precious_ Caroline had been hiding a child under false pretences these past twelve years, and Irma and Druella _didn't_.

...

Narcissa glanced over in the direction of her sister. Her _last_ sister, because she knew that there was no way she would ever be reunited with Bella again.

But then she caught the eye of the husband, and barely managed to suppress her need to look away.

How could Andy have abandoned them all, just for _him_?

_But of course she could, and easily..._

So the real question was if she would ever _really_ have her sister back?

...

Caroline held her hands clasped on the table in front of her. The noise over her head – mainly between the girl with the purple hair and Cassiopeia – went back and forth, but she wasn't really listening.

Because Cassiopeia had her back.

Although this thought did make her wonder if she'd been watching too many daytime TV shows and thrillers, it also filled her more with love than anything else. True, Cassiopeia had doubted her, and had insulted her, but when the line was thrown down and everything they cared about was in danger, Cassiopeia was standing on the frontline, right next to her.

And Caroline was fairly certain that she always would be.

And that meant far more than anything else.

Because actions spoke louder than words.

...

Cassiopeia leant back in her chair and raised her hand for silence.

"That's enough, all of you." She paused, smirked, and turned towards Caroline, "I have a plan."

...

Brushing tears from her face with shaking hands, Caroline hurried into the Auror Office. She stopped at the very first desk she saw, and leant on it for support. "Please, sir, you have to help me. You really, really do have to help me."

The tall man stood up and placed a hand on her elbow for support. His voice was low and soothing as he guided her into the chair in front of his desk, "My name is Senior Auror Shacklebolt, ma'am. Now how can I help you?"

Caroline paused to wring her wet handkerchief and began to speak, slowly and haltingly, "I... I'm a muggle... and my husband is... _was_ a Squib. We adopted a child... Well, we _thought_ we adopted a child. We never... we never really stopped to ask questions. Dumbledore... do you know Dumbledore?"

She tripped over her words as she asked the question, and Shacklebolt smiled politely and nodded for her to continue.

"Well, he turned up on our doorstep and gave her to us, and said she needed her home. He said that he would take care of everything, but that she was distantly related to us, but that everyone else had died, died during your war." She took a deep breath, and twisted her hands into knots, "So we just took her in, and raised her as our own, and never thought to ask any questions. Not about the paperwork, or her family, or anything else. Dumbledore, the Headmaster of her school now, just said that everything would be fine. But you see, we did want to know her birth parents, in case she ever asked. So we asked for their names, and when we found out, we decided we would just never tell her. But you see... you see, their names were Marlene Black, Marlene Black nee McKinnon, and Sirius... _Sirius Black_."

...

Constance Kirkwood paced her office floor. As her feet went back and forth, and back and forth, one might have thought that the ideas in her head were reflecting this.

This was not the case.

She glanced first at the ever calm-faced Kingsley Schaklebolt, who stood next to a sullen Alastor Moody. Lastly, her gaze came to rest on the weeping muggle woman sitting in the chair in front of her desk, her whole body shaking as she looked up at them fearfully.

And so, her only thought was this: _That poor, poor woman._

Moody grunted and cleared his throat, "So, what're you going to do, Kirkwood?"

She stopped pacing, and turned to face him. "Well, Mr. Moody, had you not illegally planted documents into the Auror Office twelve years ago, and had you not supported Dumbledore in his manipulations of well-meaning muggles and Squibs, I wouldn't have to _do_ anything."

"Shame about that, isn't it." She glared at him, and he just shrugged, before continuing, "You've said it yourself plenty of times, Kirkwood, we aren't the same. You think by the book, and I think with my gut. I wasn't going to let Marlene's girl grow up with the fear and the stigma of having that beast as her father. I'm not inclined to put it upon her now, but I fear for her safety now that he's on the run, and more than that, the happiness of one child can't outweigh the safety of the entire wizarding world. I'd never have come forward otherwise. So, I put it to you again. What are you going to do?"

Kirkwood turned to Caroline, "Mrs. Black, you are _quite_ sure that Sirius Black believes his daughter to be dead?"

"Yes, my niece, Narcissa Malfoy, informed him of this about five... six... I'm sorry, I'm just so nervous..."

"That's ok, the timing doesn't matter _right_ now. What matters is that you're sure that he thinks she's dead."

"Yes. Very sure."

Kirkwood nodded quickly, "Good. Then I see no reason to traumatise a young girl by revealing him to be her father and I believe we would only put her in danger by making her true identity known. If it were to get out, I've no doubt he would attempt to kidnap her. Our intelligence suggests so far that he's after Potter, there's no point putting another child in the path of this lunatic." She paused again and took a deep breath, "I shall have to make a report of this, and your involvement Moody. I'm sorry, but I still stand by my opinion on procedure and regulation. I shall notify the relevant, and _only_ the relevant, investigative staff of the true identity of Maia Black."

And then she went back to pacing the room, because she still wasn't finished. "Mrs. Black, while you are complicit it the faking of a minor's death, I should remind you that our laws regarding custodial arrangements are somewhat more... _informal_ than those in the muggle world. Accepting custody of a child over the doorstep is not unheard of. The death certificate... well, I'm afraid that one _will_ be included in the investigation against Alastor Moody and Albus Dumbledore. However, as a muggle, you are not subject to our laws. The worst you can expect is some bad press. Your husband has already passed away, so he cannot be made subject to any investigation. You may be called upon as a witness in any inquiry, do you understand all of this?"

Caroline nodded weakly, "Yes... thank you, thank you so much."

Kirkwood patted Caroline on this shoulder, in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.

Shacklebolt squared his shoulders, "So, Head Auror Kirkwood, what do _we_ do now?"

She took a deep breath, before walking back to sit behind her desk. "We turn over every single stone until that madman in back rotting where he belongs, or better still, Kissed."

...

The aforementioned madman wandered over the rolling countryside hills, wishing he could see the joy in a land commonly thought to be green and pleasant.

But the Dementors had taken all joy from him. He couldn't feel joy. He couldn't even remember the feeling of joy.

All he had was a sense of grim determination.

Because he had to find Harry.

Because _he_ was at Hogwarts.

...

Cassiopeia levelled her wand at the smirking face of Druella Black. Her lips curled upwards, forming an almost feral snarl, as she spat, "I lied on your wedding day. That dress did make you look fat." And then the picture exploded. Like the image of Irma above it, it smoked slightly and left behind a black, scorched patch. Of course, this was only the tapestry in Black Rose House. She would have to go to Black Manor in Scotland to disown them properly, but it was a satisfying start.

A knock at the door caused her to turn round. She raised an eyebrow, "And you are?"

"We are Aurors Sussex and McKay, Madam Black. We are investigating the escape of Sirius Black." Said the chubbier of the two men. A thin line of sweat pooled above his upper lip as she glared at him.

"And you are interrupting me, because?"

"We're investigating the escape-"

"-Yes, I heard you say that already-"

"-Well, it's standard procedure to interview all the family members, ma'am."

She walked across the library, the long skirt of her robes trailing behind her, as she tossed herself, elegantly, down into a low leather chair. She leant back and surveyed them. "Well, begin." She said, and with a flick of her hand, the door closed behind them.

Both men gulped at the display of wandless magic. The shuffled across the thick carpet, and the one made as if to sit in the chair opposite her.

"Did I offer you a seat?" she said, her voice dangerously even.

"Um... No, Madam Black."

"Then stand. One does not sit in the presence of one's better unless invited to do so." She smirked at them as they grew increasingly uncomfortable.

"Well, Madam Black, where were you between the hours of 10am and 1pm today?"

"If you must know, I spent the hours of 10am to 11am here, preparing for the garden party held at Greengrass manor. From 11am until 2pm, I remained there until I heard that Mr. Black had escaped, whereupon I bought my sister-in-law and niece here."

"Can anyone attest to your whereabouts?"

"As to my time here, my house elf. As to the garden party, perhaps we could call upon Minister Fudge to act as my witness? I believe I recommended the fruit scones to him."

The two men shared another nervous look, "And when was the last time you had contact with Sirius Black?"

"Christmas, 1974. That was the last time I saw him before he ran away to the Potters."

"And you are related to the Potters yourself?"

"My sister, Dorethea, married into the House of Potter, yes. Although I hardly see how my sister's poor choice in men has any relevance to the case."

"Do you think Sirius Black would be tempted to call upon the Potters for help now?"

She raised an eyebrow, "Given that Dorethea, Charlus and their only son, Polaris, have been cold in their graves for almost two decades, I can't fathom how he would turn to them for help. Unless you're referring to _Harry_ Potter, in which case, I would be rather concerned, given that he murdered that boy's parents. But then, who am I to speculate? You're the competent Aurors, are you not?"

Neither of the men had a great deal to say after that, and left swiftly, informing Cassiopeia that she must contact them if Black approached her. She assured them that she would, and wouldn't put up a _great deal _of hassle when it came to handing over his body.

...

Andromeda placed the tray of tea on the kitchen table, although nobody made any move to drink it.

She kept her face impassive. As a Black, even as a blood-traitor Black, she was good at doing that. It was a family trait that one couldn't avoid. These men must know nothing of their Council, nothing of their knowledge regarding Maia and nothing of their knowledge as to Caroline's manipulative dramatics in the Auror Office that afternoon.

"How can we help you, gentlemen?" She stole a quick glance at Ted. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat – he wasn't comfortable with all this deceit, and it was one of the many reasons why she loved him – but he wasn't in any danger of giving the game away.

"Could you tell us the last time you saw Sirius Black?"

"September, 1981. We babysat his daughter a few times, after Marlene was killed."

"And would you have described your relationship as close?"

"I would have said so at the time, but obviously it was all a lie."

"Do you think he might still come to you for help?"

"If he does, he shan't get a warm welcome. Marlene died because of him." Her voice was hard and bitter. She didn't even have to act now. "She was a dear, sweet girl who didn't deserve to be murdered like that, and neither did his daughter."

One of the Aurors shuffled some papers, "We have here in our notes that Annabelle Black was killed in early November 1981. Would you like to comment on that?"

"What could you possibly expect me to say? Annie and her aunt were brutally murdered, their bodies all but destroyed. We didn't have enough of them to even hold a funeral. We had a memorial service. We _cried_ and it was _horrible_. Do you want me to tell you who was there? Do you want me to further remind you how all those months felt? Well?"

They quelled under her show of hurt and hunger and grief, and left Ted and Andromeda in something that might a resembled peace.

...

"Is this quite necessary?" snapped Lucius, as the Aurors settled themselves on the opposing couch, from which Druella and Irma had proposed treason all those months ago.

"I'm afraid so, Mr. Malfoy." Said one of the Aurors smoothly, "This will only take a moment of your time."

"It had better be less than that."

Narcissa rested a placating hand on his arm. "The good men are only doing their jobs."

"And then we have to speak to your son, briefly just to-"

"-That won't be necessary."

The man raised his chin, "I'm afraid, Mrs. Malfoy, that procedure dictates-"

"-I repeat, it will not be necessary."

The man opened his mouth to protest, but then met Narcissa's gaze and seemed to deflate.

"As you wish, Mrs. Malfoy."

Lucius smirked. "You've had more than one moment of my time already, how much longer do we have to endure this ridiculous charade of investigative work?"

The man's eyes flashed, "If Mrs. Malfoy would just confirm, that on her scheduled visit to Azkaban..."

And the men were not match for the Malfoys. Lucius had been that Dark Lord's most _slippery friend_, after all.

...

"And so you have no idea where Sirius Black might be, Mrs. Black?"

Druella took a sip of tea, "No, I do not."

"And do you believe he will contact the House of Black?"

"If he does, I shall be obliged to welcome him. He is the pureblood Head of our Noble and Most Ancient House, and is a far better representative for us than Cassiopeia or that filthy, half-blooded piece of Squib-spwan."

"Mrs. Black, I really must protest-!"

"-I know, I've tried to protest myself, but nobody seems will to listen."

The Auror paled. _That wasn't what I meant. _"Very well, Mrs. Black. Can you remember the last time you saw or spoke to Sirius Black?"

...

Both Aurors stood up to leave, bowed, and beat a hasty exit towards the door. And both sincerely hoped they would never have to have another conversation with Irma Black again.

Ever.

...

Remus hunched over the desk and clasped his hands together.

Finally, he was alone.

He'd come to Black Rose House because he guessed it was where Caroline would be, and Maia. He had to help them through this. At least by helping them, he had the chance of distracting himself from his own feelings.

And then the Aurors had turned up.

They had asked many, many questions about Black. They had made him relive memories he had long since buried. They had made him swear his loyalty.

His loyalty had always been above question.

And then there had produced a second file. His werewolf file. And his list of so called crimes...

He swept his hand across the desk, sending an old vase flying. He heard it shatter against the wall with a semi-gratifying 'smash'. He put his head in his hands and felt his shoulders shake. He rubbed his eyes and pushed his hands back through his hair. It made no difference.

His eyes burned.

His vision blurred.

Black was out.

Maia was in danger.

Caroline was terrified.

And if Cassiopeia, _Cassiopeia Black_, hadn't thrown the Ministry out of the house, he would be under arrest right now, and making his own lonely trip in chains to Azkaban.

He sickened him that _she_ had to sign the papers to vouch for him.

The _he _owed his freedom to _her_.

He hated that he had to _justify_ his existence.

He hated that he had to _prove_ his humanity, when it was a given for everyone else.

He hated that Cassiopeia had only helped him because she wanted another wizard to protect the house.

And he hated that a part of his was _grateful_.

And Black was walking freely.

He picked up the chair, on which he had been sitting, and flung it against the wall as well.

"Wotcher."

He looked over to the doorway to see the purple-haired young Auror straightening herself back up.

"My apologies." He said, stiffly, "I didn't see you."

She walked across the room and placed a steadying hand on his elbow. "I am sorry about all this."

"You know I don't like pity."

"I know, but I don't know quite what else I can say."

"It's not your fault."

She shrugged lightly, "Oh, I don't know about that. We haven't seen Skeeter's headline for tomorrow yet. Who knows, I might have set him out myself. Or she might come up with some other conspiracy theory. You know, if she just plays it straight with Ministry incompetence, I might be a little disappointed. I'd have to wonder if she might be losing her edge."

In spite of himself, Remus laughed, albeit weakly.

"At least they didn't arrest you."

He shook his head, "I shouldn't have to live in fear of that."

"I know. But at least they didn't."

He stepped back from her touch and pushed his hand through his hair, "I'm sorry. You're young and you should be happy. I shouldn't be troubling you with my complaints. There are people who are far worse off than I am." He paused, "Why are you here?"

"To interview Maia. Of course, she doesn't know about _him_... But, we have to interview her and they thought a young face might be best. And I'm family, so telling me about her identity was thought to be the best option." She felt oddly guilty, all of a sudden. As if lying, well _misleading_, him was something she was physically incapable of doing. But she had to, her interviewing Maia was just a stroke of luck anyway...

He frowned, "You know?"

"Caroline confessed to the Ministry this afternoon."

"Oh."

She looked at her watch, "I need to go. Take care, Mr. Lupin."

"Take care, Miss. Tonks."

...

Tonks and Shacklebolt sat down opposite Maia. They were sitting in the drawing room, and Caroline sat next to her, holding her hand.

Maia turned to Caroline, "Mother, I don't understand why these people wish to speak to me?" She glanced back to Tonks, who winked at her, "And why must they send such uncouth people with _odd_ manners and clothes and looks."

Tonks fought to keep the grin off her face. This girl was _good_. She could be an Auror. Tonks hadn't even seen a _flicker _of recognition in her eyes. Although given that the girl had been raised a true Black – unlike herself – she reasoned that she ought not to be too surprised.

She'd probably had lessons in how to pretend that she didn't recognise someone, in order to put them down socially.

Shacklebolt cleared his throat, "We're here to interview you regarding the escape of Sirius Black."

"Well, I don't see why," she said imperiously, "it's not as if _I _know where he has hidden himself away. Perhaps you ought to be looking for him, rather than wasting your time with me?"

Tonks jumped in before Shacklebolt could respond, "And if you do see him, what would you do?"

"Report him, of course. It's not as if I'd be foolish enough to tackle him myself, and I'm hardly going to aid and abet him. My parents taught me better than that."

...

Once the interview was completed, Maia managed to escape her mother's vice-like grip and wandered the house in search of Remus.

She found him in the garden, sitting on a bench and staring out across the lake. She sat down next to him.

"I'm glad you're staying with us, you know." She said carefully. She was not used to emotions, and especially not emotional adults. She sincerely hoped he wouldn't cry. Although perhaps if someone threatened to take her to Azkaban, she would cry herself. She doubted it though, she'd just call Aunt Cassiopeia and have her curse them into oblivion.

He nodded.

"Remus, I know that now isn't a good time, but could you take me to father's grave at some point, before I go back to Hogwarts?"

He turned to her, "Are you sure you wouldn't rather have your mother take you?"

She shook her head, "No, not just at the moment. I'd prefer it to be private."

He turned back to the lake, "If you're sure."

"I'm sure."

...

**The next update will be in one week.**

**Thank you for all the reviews and comments. And yes, Harry didn't rescue Dobby in this version – AU doesn't necessarily mean better! – and I hope this chapter cleared up and questions about Moody's motives. He doesn't **_**want**_** to see Annie/Maia hurt, but he wouldn't put the safety of one person above the safety of the rest of the wizarding world. Or at least, that's how I view him... : ) **


	71. The Heart Does Not Grow Forgetful

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Seventy One_ – The Heart Does Not Grow Forgetful_

Remus did follow through on his promise to take her to see her father's grave. Facing the marble headstone - and the bland inscription and horror that for her this still felt like a recent event – Maia remembered the day of his funeral, when Draco had held her hand, kept her upright, and given the speech for her.

He was her brother, and she would love him forever.

Whatever was going on with Parkinson, he would not truly abandon her.

And the events of the last few days had shown her that.

Because family always came first.

She sat in front of his grave alone – Remus had agreed to wait by the gates – and talked to him in her head for almost an hour. She knew he couldn't answer, but she imagined that he was listening. She imaged what he would say in response. Sometimes, she was cross with him, and imagined that he was cross with her.

But she still loved him.

And so they kept talking.

And when she stood up to leave, she walked over to the headstone and kissed it. She imagined that she was kissing him goodnight, as he used to do for her.

And as she walked away, she knew that she would honour her him, because he was her father, and that was what daughter's of the House of Black did.

...

Padfoot growled as he watched the skinny – too skinny – dark-haired boy stumble out onto the street. He slipped back into the shadows when the boy looked in his direction.

Why was Harry here?

Where was Remus?

Why wasn't he happy?

Why wasn't it like he had imagined?

He could remember the report and Cissy's letter clearly. He could remember it as if he had read it yesterday. It was one of his worst memories, and all those years in Azkaban had kept it fresh and sharp. Annie was dead, and Harry was being cared for by relatives.

He had assumed that meant Moony. Moony would have become his family.

He had hunted down any Potters that he could. But they were all gone. All of them. The last of them had been killed during the first war by Greyback, before Prongs and Lily had even been taken...

And that had left the _Dursleys_.

Why was Harry here?

He growled, and began to stagger off in the direction of London.

He would look after the Prongslet.

He would keep him safe.

He owed that to Prongs.

...

It was very soon the last week of the holidays, and although Maia's school purchases had been delivered already – Caroline would not hear of them going to Diagon Alley, and so had owl-ordered everything – the young witch was desperate to go out. Although Black Rose House was by no means cramped with Maia, Caroline, Cassiopeia and Remus living there, the atmosphere was occasionally tense. Caroline and Cassiopeia were as firm friends as ever, but Cassiopeia and Remus could barely stand to be in the same room as each other. Given that Caroline insisted that they all eat their meals together, like a family, at least three separate arguments broke out every day.

Maia sometimes wondered if living together for protection was not actually putting them in more danger from each other, than from any threat posed by Sirius Black.

And so, after a spectacular row that breakfast, Caroline suggested Remus spend the day away from Cassiopaia, and Maia demanded he take her to Diagon Alley. Then, after much hand-wringing from Caroline, Maia was finally stepping beyond the heavily warded boundaries of Black Rose House.

She felt very grown-up in her light-grey set of robes, with her matching mantle, and matching gloves, and matching grey toque hat with a set of feathers. Her hair was arranged in a low bun, and as they apparated into Diagon Alley, she relished the click of the cobbled pavement under her heels.

Like a proper, young society witch with a grand inheritance and an even grander family.

Sadly, this was all ruined by having to hold Remus' hand.

Diagon Alley was quieter than she had ever seen it before. People seemed to huddle together, and the posters of Sirius Black glared out at her from every spare space of wall. Did the Ministry think that the populace were so stupid that they wouldn't recognise a crazed mass-murderer when they saw one? She thought she saw a few people turn and point at her, so she stuck her nose in the air and flounced into Flourish and Blotts, dragging Remus behind her.

She headed straight for the Arithmancy section.

Remus smiled fondly as she started to pull a few titles from the bookshelves, "Are you looking forward to next year?"

She skimmed over the blurb before slotting the book back on the shelf, "I suppose, but I wish I could have had _some_ of the summer off. And Aunt Cassiopeia is still cross about the results of the tests she made me take last week."

"You really did very well."

"I got an 'A' in Transfiguaration and an 'E' in Charms."

"There's nothing from with an 'E', Maia, and you can work on your Transfiguration."

"She says my spell-casting is weak."

Remus shrugged, "Some people are more talented in some areas than others. There isn't a plant you can't name, or a potion you can't brew. You can't be perfect."

"Firstly, I'm a Black. I am supposed to be perfect. Secondly, it's all well and good for you to say these things when you got 'O's in everything."

"How did you know that?"

"Because my father wouldn't have hired you otherwise."

Remus decided to let the subject rest, but did again curse Cassiopeia in his head. She expected too much of _all_ those children. It wasn't right. He sighed, "But at least you won about Muggle Studies."

She finally turned around and smiled, "I did, didn't I? Not that I _wanted_ to quarrel with Aunt Cassiopeia, but I _did_ want to take it, and it _did_ make mother happy."

Maia handed Remus a few books which she had deemed worthy, and began to head towards the Muggle Studies section.

In truth, she found this section by far more interesting that the bland mathematical titles. Within few moments, Remus was also holding copies of _Medieval Magical and Muggle Relations, A History of Muggle Politics,_ _A Guide to Notable Muggle Families _and _A Survey of Muggle Etiquette Through the Ages_.

"Maia! Hello!"

Maia turned to see Hermione Granger bustling towards her, laden with books. Maia curtseyed, "Good morning, Hermione." _So they were on first name terms now? Well... they had been writing during the holidays..._

"Are you getting your schoolbooks?"

"No, we owl-ordered everything this year. I'm just getting some light reading." She gestured vaguely towards Remus, who was dutifully following with her purchases. "This is my tutor, Professor Lupin. He's chaperoning me today." Being chaperoned was much more acceptable than being supervised, or at least, that was what she thought. Judging by the way Hermione's eyebrow's rose, Maia surmised that the girl thought differently.

"You are aware that it's the twentieth century, Maia. You don't _need_ to be chaperoned. You're a strong, independent woman."

Maia frowned, "I don't understand. Why are you telling me what I already know?"

Hermione shook her head, "It doesn't matter..." her voiced trailed away before she suddenly brightened again, "Which subjects are you taking next year?"

"Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies. And you?"

"All of them."

"You mean the same ones as me?"

"No, I mean all the subjects on offer."

"All of them?"

"Yes, why ever not?"

"Goodness, rather you than me!"

"_Well_," said Hermione forcefully, "I'm looking forward to it. By the way, have you seen Harry? I know he's staying in Diagon Alley, and Ron and I thought we might be able to find him, but..."

"Weasley's here?"

"Well, he's in Quality Quidditch Supplies with the twins..."

Remus coughed, "Maia, I'm going to go and pay for these."

She turned to him, "Of course, mother gave you the money, didn't she? And can you pick me up a brochure, in case I want to order anything while I'm at Hogwarts? I've been thinking about reading up on the history of potion-making."

He walked away, shaking his head to himself. If he had raised her, she wouldn't be so spoiled and dismissive either. He found himself saying things like that a lot these days. But there was a lot of good in her, he could see it. The pity was that she'd forgotten about it. And the pity was that this was all being reinforced in Slytherin, when she should have been a Ravenclaw.

But she was still young, and there was still hope.

...

After having lunch in an unusually quiet cafe, Maia and Remus continued their shopping trip. They had briefly bumped into the 'Golden Trio' for long enough to establish that Harry had liked their letters, and that Hermione had no taste in cats.

They were just getting ready to leave when another voice called them back, "I say, it is a jolly nice surprise to see you here, Black."

"Good afternoon, Finch-Fletchley. How are you?"

He rubbed his hands together, "Very good and fully recovered, yourself?"

"I'm in perfect health." There was an awkward pause in their conversation, during which Justin smiled as benignly (and infuriatingly) as ever. She looked around, "Are you here with Ernie, then? You shouldn't be wandering around on your own, you know."

Justin frowned momentarily, before smiling again, "Oh no. I came with Ernie and got all my school things a few weeks ago, but just realised this morning that I didn't have a single decent quill left, so I just popped over while my parents were at work..."

His voice trailed away at Maia's incredulous and Remus' horrified expressions.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Are you not aware that there's a mass murderer on the loose?" Said Maia weakly, not quite sure what to make of this new low of stupidity. Of course, she _resented_ having Remus as a de facto bodyguard, but she wasn't foolish enough to query the _necessity_!

"Oh, Sirius Black? Well, I didn't even realise he was a wizard until today. I came with Ernie weeks ago for my robes and such, and owl-ordered my books for the experience this year, and I don't get the _Prophet_ and Ernie's been in Greece, which is too far for an owl..." He decided to stop before he went any further.

Remus passed a hand over his eyes, "I'm afraid Sirius Black is a rather infamous wizard, who served You-Know-Who."

"You do know who_ that_ is?" cut in Maia sarcastically.

"Maia, be polite."

She scoffed, but apologised.

"Anyway," continued Remus pointedly, "it really isn't safe to wander around on your own. Where are you going now?"

"I was just going to go home... I say, this Sirius Black isn't related to you, is he, Black?"

"We're first cousins, once removed." She said coldly.

Justin looked at the floor, stung by her tone. He realised it probably wasn't something that she wanted to be reminded about. Remus looked heavenwards, but decided not to comment. The boy had practically asked for that one, after all.

"Well, why don't I just apparate you back to your house?"

Justin shook his head, "Oh no, I couldn't trouble you. And my brothers have muggle friends visiting, who don't know about magic."

Remus took a deep breath, "Well, we'll just have to escort you back ourselves."

...

Maia was _not_ pleased with this turn of events. She had never set foot in muggle London before – at least not since she was _very_ young – and while Remus tried to persuade her that she could consider it a part of her studies, she had no desire to let him think she was happy with the situation. Books were one thing, while this _vulgarity_ was quite another.

Luckily, as Justin lived in Maida Vale, they didn't have to change when they got on the _tube_. She didn't understand why it was called such a thing. It didn't look like a tube at all. Still, she had to _stand_ in a stuffy, filthy, over-crowded train that lurched on the tracks and threw her backwards and forwards. Whatever this _Bakerloo Line_ was, she had no fondness for it. The railings were so grimy that they slipped under her fingers. She thanked Salazar for her gloves...

And the man next to her picked his nose.

And another woman _actually_ jostled her.

And people pushed and shoved her to get on and off.

And it was altogether such a disgusting and unhygienic experience that she wondered how the muggles hadn't all died of the plague!

Still, Justin was rather pleasant to talk to, and he answered all her questions about muggle London. After all, if she had to be here, she ought to at least learn something that might prove beneficial in class later. Justin said it was a shame that there was no comparable Wizarding Studies class, as he would quite like to learn about her culture as well. He was looking forward to Ancient Runes though, as he had already been taught Latin and even Ancient Greek, and Maia's respect for him grew ever-so-slightly.

Needless to say, by the time she and Remus got home, they were late and Caroline was frantic with worry. Cassiopeia gloated about how Remus couldn't be trusted, and Maia eventually explained that they had had to take Justin Finch-Fletchley home. After this, Caroline fussed over how good and kind they had both been (especially Maia) and all was forgiven.

And a few short days later, Maia again crossed the wards once to apparate to platform nine and three quarters.

And her third year was about to begin.

...

**The next chapter will be up in about a week. **


	72. Nothing But Fear Itself

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Seventy Two_ – Nothing But Fear Itself_

Caroline was up early that morning, the morning when Maia would leave for Hogwarts again. She sat by herself in the drawing room, wrapped in a blanket and staring at her wedding photo.

_I don't know what to do, Marius dear_, she thought. _I really don't know what to do. I haven't told her the truth. I know I said I would... I want to... But how on earth does one find the words to tell one's daughter such a thing? She is my daughter, you know. She's our daughter. _

_I wonder if you've met Marlene on the other side. I hope she understands. I hope she approves. I hope Marlene knows that I do truly love her daughter, and that I'm not lying because I'm denying her existence, but that I'm lying to protect our little girl. Her Annie. Our Maia. I suppose she belongs to the three of us, which makes it all the harder for me because I'm the only one left behind, wondering what both of you would have wanted..._

_I do love her. Forgive me, but I do love her. I know I'm doing everything wrong, but I don't know how I can do this right..._

"Mother, are you quite alright?"

Caroline looked up as Maia walked into the room, and sat down on the chair opposite her. "Of course I'm alright, darling. Why are you up so early?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"Are you excited about today?" Caroline forced herself to smile.

"I suppose. I'd much rather stay here though. I just feel... I just feel cut off. I missed so much. For me, hardly any time has passed since father died, and it all feels so raw. And I hardly want to go to a school where my murdering lunatic of a cousin will be the major topic of conversation."

Caroline sighed, "It'll always feel a little raw, he was your father."

"I know he was, he'll always be my father." Maia paused and bit her lip, "Mother, you know I love you as well? You know I'll always love you, no matter what."

Caroline frowned, "Maia, what's brought this on? Of course you love me, just as I love you. I've loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you, and that will never change."

Maia chewed her lip again, "Do you think that father would be proud of me?"

"Of course, darling. Your father would have been proud of you no matter what, but I think he would have been especially proud that you realised Remus was a good man, more than a werewolf, and especially proud that you want to take Muggle Studies, that you can see good in the world beyond pureblood society, and that you're friends with those two muggleborns, Justin and Hermione. He would be very proud of you for all of those things."

"So you think that I'm a good person?"

Caroline walked over and knelt before her daughter, "You are a good, kind, wonderful person and I love you very, very much. Now will you tell me what's the matter, because deep moral introspection is not something you normally do, is it, darling?"

Maia shrugged and looked away, "I've just been thinking a lot recently."

"About what?"

"About Sirius Black."

Caroline shook her head fiercely, "You shouldn't waste a single thought on that sorry excuse for a human being, not a single thought. He isn't worth it, do you understand?"

Maia smiled and hugged her mother, "I understand, thank you."

...

Maia could not believe that she was to be chaperoned on the Hogwarts Express. Luckily, Remus understood her embarrassment and agreed to sit at the back of the train, while she stayed with her friends. She had to report to him after lunch, and come and see him if she had any problems, but other than that, she was a free witch.

She rolled her eyes derisively.

Draco grinned when she stepped into their compartment, "Take a seat, cousin."

She sat down opposite him and looked around the carriage. All her friends were here, as well as Parkinson and Bulstrode. There was an awkward pause, before Tracey rolled her eyes, "Right, we can sit here in silence, or we can mention the elephant in the room. Maia, what is it like knowing that your mass-murdering first cousin is on the loose?"

"First cousin, _once removed_, actually." Snapped Maia.

Suddenly, Draco laughed, and Maia couldn't help but join in, and the whole carriage laughed with them.

"Tracey," said Blaise, "you know you're brilliant, right?"

"Oh, I know." She smirked.

And with that, their compartment fell into companionable conversation. They discussed the results of the election (Daphne's father had kept his seat) and what they would do if they could be Minister of Magic for the day. Then, the door swung open and Queenie Greengrass swept in and sat down opposite her sister.

"Daphne, darling. Do you mind if I stay here for a little while?"

Daphne frowned, "Why? I assumed you would be patrolling with Bertram, you know, enjoying the power of being the Head Boy's girlfriend."

Queenie gulped and looked away, "Yes, I assumed that as well. We all did. We were just waiting for the letter. And then we thought there was a mistake, and we'd find out on the train... But, well, Bertram didn't make Head Boy..."

Maia looked up, "How can Bertram _not_ be Head Boy? Who else would Dumbledore choose?"

"Yes, that's the thing..."

"Oh Merlin," cut in Draco, "he chose Weasel the Elder, didn't he?"

Queenie nodded, "And he and Bertram are currently having a shouting match as to whether or not it's appropriate to give all prefects a mandatory competency test at the end of every month. I've decided to run away and hide, and I'm hiding here. I claim sanctuary, will you take me?"

Daphne leant across and patted her hand, "Of course."

Suddenly, the train lurched to a halt and everything went dark. Queenie pulled out her wand and whispered _lumos_. The third years copied her, and all their faces were bathed with eerie light, and ghostly shadows flickered around the compartment.

"Does this mean that Weasley and Bertram have blown up part of the train with the eschewing duel?" said Blaise sarcastically.

Before anyone could answer, everything went dark again as even the lights from their wands went out. Something cold and icy seemed to sweep through the compartment and Maia felt as though she had just fallen into the North Sea. All the air seemed to have been knocked from her lungs, and she gasped for breath.

_Professor Snape sat back in his own chair, looking unusually weary._

_He sighed. "I am afraid, Miss. Black, that your father had a sudden heart attack and died in the early hours of this afternoon. He had been unwell for some time. Your aunt has come to collect you and will take you home to your mother directly. The house elves will pack your t__hings and they'll be with you this evening." He paused and looked at her directly, "I am very sorry for your loss, Miss. Black."_

_"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't understand..."_

_..._

_She took a deep breath and blinked back tears as they started to fill her eyes again._

_"I loved my father very much." The tears were really there now. "And it's very hard to say how much you love someone. I loved him so very much, but I can't really describe the feeling..."_

_..._

_She looked down at the paper and clutched the pulpit, trying to hold herself upright. The sunlight glinted on her father's coffin and she started to shake with her own tears. She knew she had to talk, but her voice was hoarse..._

_..._

"_I hate you, I hate you, I hate you all! I hate you! How could you not tell me! You lied and I hate you!" _

_She kicked and trashed as Aunt Cassiopeia wrapped her arms around her and held her still. _

"_I hate you!"_

_..._

Suddenly, the light was back in the carriage and Maia realised that she was curled up in a small ball, with tears streaming down her cheeks. She gasped for breath over and over again, rocking back and forth, while she chocked on sob after sob.

It all felt so raw.

She felt warm arms around her, rocking with her, rubbing her back and shushing her, before she took a deep breath and looked around her. Daphne was holding her tightly, while Blaise and Tracey were helping Draco off the floor. He was pale and shaking worse than her. He looked as though he was about to be sick. Tracey seemed to think the same thing, because she opened the carriage window and a burst of fresh air filled the stuffy compartment. "What on earth just happened?" she asked.

Queenie, who held her wand in a shaking hand, whispered, "Dementors. Those were Dementors."

Maia leant back and Daphne let go of her. Looking around, she was pleased that she wasn't the only one who had gone to pieces. Parkinson was still crying, while Bulstrode tried to soothe her, and Draco... Draco stared out of the open window with a hard expression on his face.

"Are you alright?" she asked him.

He nodded, but that was her only response.

Suddenly, the compartment door was flung open and Remus rushed in. "Maia, are you alright?"

"Yes, thank you." She said, drying her eyes, "I'm perfectly fine."

He frowned, "I'm on my way to talk to the conductor." He handed her a large bar of chocolate, "Here, make sure you all share this. It'll help."

She moved to pass it back, "We're perfectly-"

He held out a hand, "No you're not. None of you are. Just eat it. It'll help, I promise."

And with that, he vanished down the corridor.

...

It didn't take long for Draco to storm out of the carriage, flanked by Vincent and Gregory, in order to torment Potter. He returned with the news that Potter had fainted (none of them said, as well) and they proceeded to cheer Draco up by helping him come up with new schemes to torment the Golden Trio. Maia found that it was a good distraction for herself as well, although her heart wasn't really in it anymore. Well, when it came to Weasley, she would give as good as she got, but she owed Potter a debt of honour, and Granger _was_ rather bearable.

...

That evening, Narcissa Malfoy sat in the drawing with her husband. She held her needlework in both hands, but it rested on her knees and she started away from it, into the fire.

"My love, you aren't pining after our son already, are you?" asked Lucius, putting down his heavy volume of the theory of magical blood.

"Only a little, darling?"

"Then what's troubling you?"

She sighed, "Cousin Siri."

"I don't see why. Young Maia is safe, as you wished and he'll be back in Azkaban before Yule. Everyone will have forgotten about it by midsummer, and our reputations will be as they were before."

"It's not that, Lucius."

"Then what?" He said, frowning. He moved from his seat to the one next to her.

"Do you ever worry that _he'll_ come back?"

Lucius paled and was silent for a moment, "Why do you ask that? He's dead, Narcissa. Very, very dead."

For as long as Narcissa remained silent, Lucius' heart failed to beat, his lungs failed to breathe, and the bile rose in his chest.

She shook her head, "I know. I'm being silly. I just think, that if Siri can get out of Azkaban, the Dark Lord might return from the dead."

He took her into his arms, "I promise you, darling. He is never coming back. We're safe."

As he soothed her, he looked to the heavens and prayed to all the Gods and all his ancestors that his words were true.

Because if the Dark Lord came back, he was a dead man walking.

...

**Hello, **

**As ever, reviews and comments are more than welcome. I hope you're enjoying the story, and please let me know what you like and what you don't! : ) **

**Also, I'm trying to make sure that this remains a story about the whole of the House of Black, and not just Maia. I don't intend for the story to be centred entirely around one OC, although most of these characters are de-facto OCs anyway. It's not as if Cassiopeia, Irma, Marius or Druella etc. ever played a part in canon! : ) **

**Also, I've always thought that Lucius knew he'd be in trouble Voldemort came back, given that he renounced the cause, pretended he'd acted under the Imperius Curse etc. And I imagine that this only got worse after he got rid of the diary and it got destroyed. I think we can presume that he worked out the significance of the diary after CoS, and that he knew just how furious Voldemort would be...**

**Best wishes,**

**R&L. **


	73. No Witch is an Island

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Happy reading! : )**

Chapter Seventy Three_ – No Witch Is An Island_

By the next morning, Draco was back to his usual self, and was re-enacting Potter's fainting fit for the general amusement of Slytherin House. He was quite the dramatist, and none of them were going to reference his own reaction. Maia was simply pleased to know that that was the first and last time she had to be in close-proximity to a Dementor.

Her first class of the day was Muggle Studies, which no other Slytherin students were taking. So, for the first time in her academic life, she set off to class without Draco to escort her. After a few wrong turns, she made it to class on time. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

She could have sighed with relief when she finally walked in. Ernie was sitting at the front of the class, and waved her over to join him. The class seemed to be largely comprised of Hufflepuffs, although she recognised Terry Boot and Padma Patil from Ravenclaw. There were a couple of Gryffindors, one of whom she thought she recognised as Fay Dunbar, but she wasn't entirely sure. Then, one minute before class began, Hermione Granger burst through the door - looking rather flustered - and hurried over to sit next to Maia just as Professor Burbage walked into the room.

The aforementioned professor did a double take when she saw a Slytherin in her front row, seated between a Hufflepuff and a Gryffindor. Still, she was professional enough not to comment, and proceeded to explain the course programme to them. They would spend the first term studying the history of muggle civilisation in Britain. As it was the first class, they were going to talk about their own experiences with the muggle world.

Professor Burbage rearranged the seating plan so that they were all sitting in a circle, facing each other. Maia raised an eyebrow at this. Her Aunt Cassiopeia would have thought such an arrangement to be overly informal and communal. She hoped this subject wasn't going to be too 'soft' or 'touchy-feely'.

Then, they had to talk about any experience they had had with the muggle world.

Naturally, Hermione went first and told them all about her life as a muggle, and left them all wondering why on earth she was taking the course.

Next, it was Maia's turn.

She swallowed, slightly nervous, but remembered that she wasn't allowed to behave it such a way. "Well, my mother is a muggle, and my father was a Squib." Given that she had relived his funeral less than forty eight hours ago, she paused and took a deep breath, "So, I went to a muggle preparatory school for a year. I don't remember it very well, except that there were two vile girls called Holly and Rosie, but I don't feel the need to concern myself with them any longer."

"Why were they vile?" asked Hermione.

Maia frowned, "They weren't very nice to me. My Aunt Cassiopeia said that it was because they had fickle muggle mannerisms and didn't understand friendship or loyalty in the same way witches and wizards do."

"How can you say that?"

"I beg your pardon, Hermione?"

Hermione leant forwards in her chair, to better speak to Maia. "Well, how can you say that? How can you say that muggles are fickle and witches and wizards aren't?"

"Well, it's true. It's not that witches and wizards _can't_ be fickle, but that muggles are more likely to be so."

"But why?"

"Because that's the way they are. Because they don't have to share a secret like we all do."

"But muggles have plenty of their own secrets! How can you just parrot what your Aunt says, and not think about it?"

"But I have thought about it, and I happen to think she's right!"

Professor Burbage coughed and raised a hand, "That's quite enough, girls. This is a matter than I'm sure we'll have plenty of opportunity to discuss later in the year. Now, Miss. Black, perhaps you have some more positive experiences to share with us about muggles?"

"Well," she said, throwing Hermione a dirty look, "I went on the muggle tube for the first time this year, and although it was dirty and some disgusting man picked his nose, Justin Finch-Fletchley told me all about the history of muggle transport, and I find it simply fascinating that muggles have managed to put a man on the moon..."

...

Maia and Hermione began to walk to Transfiguration together in a frosty silence. While they had not _exactly_ quarrelled, they were hardly in a good mood with each other. After a few minutes, Maia decided to practise her diplomatic skills.

"I appreciated your most recent letter on potion-making. I'm quite tempted to read about ancient Egyptian potion making as a result."

"Oh, but you should!"

And that managed to carry them all the way through to Transfiguration.

...

After Transfiguration, followed by double Herbology with the Ravenclaws, Maia sat down to lunch with her Slytherin friends, where they began to complain about the pile of homework McGonagall had given them. A piece of parchment, flying like a paper aeroplane, floated over to Maia and stopped in front of her. She frowned and opened it.

_Dear Miss. Black,_

_I must say, I am pleased to have a Slytherin in my course, and given your academic record, I'm sure you're going to do very well. If it is convenient, could you please join me in my office after dinner? I would be much obliged._

_Kind regards,_

_Professor C. Burbage._

Maia shrugged and tucked the parchment into her bag, wondering what on earth the Professor could want to talk to her about. As far as she was aware, the first lesson had gone splendidly. Perhaps she wanted to reassure her that Granger was just too liberally-minded for her own good?

"Excuse me."

The third years turned around to see Marcus Flint standing behind them. "I hope you're all doing Slytherin credit on your first day back."

"Of course we are," said Draco smoothly, "how can we help you?"

"I just came to tell you and Davies that our first practice will be on Thursday night."

Maia quickly put down her goblet of pumpkin juice and looked Tracey straight in the eye, "_You're_ playing Seeker?"

She nodded, "Yes, ever since the middle of last year, when Draco started to play Keeper..." Her voice trailed away.

"You're the one who got me kicked off the team."

It wasn't a question.

There was a heavy silence, during which Maia stood up, snatched up her satchel, and walked towards Arithmancy on her own. She didn't say and word, and she didn't glance back.

As the rest of the school were still at lunch, she was very early. She walked into the classroom, slammed the door behind her, and found herself a good seat near the front. A few moments later, Ernie and Justin walked in.

Ernie smiled, "Well, _that_ was quite the dramatic exit."

Maia turned her head away, "I don't care."

Justin sat down next to her, "I don't know what you all argued about, but you know that Tracey Davies is crying, right?"

"It serves her right." She snapped bitterly.

"Are you sure?"

Maia looked at the two of them who were stood in front of her. Would her father really be proud of her for treating a friend like that? Seeker _wasn't_ her position and she ought to be pleased for Tracey, who _had_ always been for to her. "I suppose not."

They person she _ought_ to be cross with was Flint.

She sighed, "I'll apologise at dinner."

Ernie walked over and clapped her on the shoulder, "That's my girl!"

She laughed weakly and pulled out her textbook. It all looked really rather complicated. _And_ this was a double lesson. At least she wasn't taking Care of Magical Creatures with that oaf. She kept glancing towards the door, knowing that Blaise would be joining her shortly. Draco, Vincent, Gregory, Bulstrode and Parkinson would all be having Care of Magical Creatures with the _gamekeeper_, while Daphne and Tracey had double Divination with Trelawny, the _fraud_.

Seamus Finnegan joined them next, followed by Hermione Granger. Then what looked like all of Ravenclaw came through the door.

Blaise came last, just before the bell rang, and sat down next to Maia and passed her a note.

_I hope you plan on apologising._

She rolled her eyes and scribbled her response.

_Blacks don't apologise_.

He glared at her, and she crossed out the answer.

_Of course I'm going to apologise. I was joking_.

He took the parchment from her.

_Good, Tracey is devastated. _

With a feeling of guilt settling in her stomach, the lesson began, and her day quickly got worse. As she had not really done any maths since she had left her muggle preparatory school, aged five, she found this sudden immersion into a world of numbers very difficult. Ernie was struggling as well, as was Blaise and a few other purebloods. Professor Vector set them a quiz to gauge their level, which he marked automatically with a wave of his wand, and Maia was horrified to see that she only got five questions right out of fifteen. She glanced over her shoulder to see that Blaise had got six, while Justin had fourteen! Another quick look around the classroom showed her that Seamus Finnegan was grinning smugly.

_He was better than her._

_Again!_

...

Maia hurried down to dinner in a foul mood. Professor Vector had paired them off to form study partners with the weakest and the strongest students together, and she was going to be tutored by Justin Finch-Fletchley.

_Justin Finch-Fletchley, who didn't even realise that Sirius Black was a mass-murdering madman!_

It was a hard blow to her ego.

Although Ernie had it worst, now that he had to work the Finnegan.

It wasn't much of a consolation, but it was something.

Luckily, she got there in time to grab Tracey (and Daphne) before they walked into the Great Hall.

"Look, Tracey, I'm sorry I was mean. I really am. I was out of order. I was upset, and I took it out on you."

Tracey nodded and, to her eternal credit, smiled. "It's ok. You don't mind, do you?"

"Well, I'm not going to _lie_, I do mind, but I _am_ happy for you. It's Flint I'm cross with."

Daphne shook her head, "Actually, Maia, it's not Flint you have to be cross with..." she fell silent as a few students passed, before whispering "We can talk about it in our dorm tonight, ok?"

Maia was about to answer, when they were cut off by heavily panting Daniel Stretton, "Maia, haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?" she snapped.

Daniel straightened up and took a deep breath. His cheeks were flushed from running. "Bertram Nott sent me to tell you. Your cousin, Draco, is in the Hospital Wing. A Hippogriff attacked him."

"Sweet Salazar!"

And without waiting to hear anymore, she picked up the hem of her robes and ran off in the direction of the infirmary.

...

Maia's heart thudded in her chest as she walked into the Hospital Wing. Draco was lying on the bed with his eyes closed and was covered in bandages. Parkinson appeared to be weeping over his unmoving form, while Vincent and Gregory looked on uncomfortably. She started to rush towards him, when Madam Pomfrey tried to shoo her out.

"Young Master Malfoy has _quite_ enough visitors."

"Well," she said, sticking out her chin, "throw some of _them_ out. _I'm_ his cousin."

After quickly doing some maths, Vincent, Gregory and Parkinson were all ejected from the infirmary by Madam Pomfrey, and Maia settled down into the chair by Draco's bed.

"Are you alright? Stretton said you were attacked by a Hippogriff."

Draco grimaced, "I'll be fine."

"Of course you'll be fine, but what, in Merlin's name, were you doing near a _Hippogriff_?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "Didn't you hear? That was our topic of the day."

In spite of her many years of training, Maia spluttered before she could answer, "Wh-what?"

"I know."

"I presume Uncle Lucius is going to have the beast destroyed and the oaf sacked."

"I most certainly hope so, sister."

Maia smiled and squeezed his hand, "Always and forever."

He squeezed her hand in return, "Because family comes first."

...

Maia was feeling quite light-headed as she walked into Professor Burbage's office. She hadn't left Draco's side, and so had missed dinner. She was pleased when she saw a plate of biscuits on the table.

"Help yourself, Miss. Black."

Maia took a couple and looked around the room. She quite liked this office. All three inner walls were lined with overflowing bookcases (which she noted were categorised both alphabetically and by subject) with only space for the doors left free. The old-fashioned oak desk was sturdy, but rather tasteful. A patterned rug filled most of the floor space. The outer wall had two large windows, which overlooked the Forbidden Forest and the Whomping Willow, while a large fireplace was situated between them. Two brown leather armchairs were placed in front of the fireplace, with a low table placed between them. The table was laden with scholarly journals.

It was smart and snug at the same time, and reminded Maia of some of the informal rooms in Black Rose House.

Professor Burbage watched as Maia looked around, "Does this meet with your approval, Miss. Black?"

Charity Burbage had not been sure what to expect when she saw the name _Maia Violetta Black_ on her list of new students. She was well aware that her subject was not widely respected, even among liberal circles, so to see that the Heir to an infamously Dark family was willing to attend had surprised her. In fact, a large part of her was worried that the girl only wanted to take the class to cause a disruption.

The events of the first lessons had concerned her, but not because she thought the child was wilfully disruptive.

In fact, she saw a child who had been woefully misguided.

And she saw a _fairly_ kind-natured child who didn't even realise this.

Charity Burbage sighed.

"Oh, yes. I think it's lovely. It reminds me of one of the drawing rooms in the east wing back home. It's just off of the library, and we use it for studying sometimes."

Charity Burbage blinked twice. She had not expected such a civil, yet alone positive, response. She was more than aware of the type of house and furnishings with which _Miss. Black _must have grown up.

"Thank you. Would you like some tea?"

Maia inclined her head, "Yes please."

With a wave of Professor Burbage's wand, a tea set appeared on the desk. After tea and biscuits, Maia felt much more like her normal self.

"Did you enjoy class today, Miss. Black?"

"Very much, Professor. I particularly liked Ernie's story about visiting Justin Finch-Fletchley for Easter last year."

"I have to say I was surprised to see you take this course. Not many Slytherin students are particularly interested in the muggle world."

Maia shrugged lightly, "My mother and father both spent much of their lives in the muggle world. I felt that my ignorance was disrespectful to them. And I do like to learn new things."

Professor Burbage nodded, slowly, "Have you ever imagined your life as a muggle?"

Maia put down her cup of tea, surprised, "No, why would I?"

_Hmmm, clearly I shouldn't take this too quickly..._

Professor Burbaged smiled, "No reason, I'm merely curious." She paused, "I thought, given how little exposure you've had to the muggle world, you might like to have some extra studies. Guided reading, so to speak. "

_How odd that I'm using her separation from and ignorance regarding 95% of the British population as a compliment..._

"You think I'm going to fail." Said Maia, leaning back in her chair and resting her teacup back down on the desk.

_Oh yes, I forgot how temperamental Blacks are..._

"Oh no, of course not." Said Professor Burbage quickly, "But there are a lot of half-bloods who have spent most of their time in the muggle world this year, and I don't want you to feel left out. More than that, I'm impressed with your academic record so far, and think that you'll make a very promising student."

_I hope that wasn't laying it on a bit thick... But, well, the ends justifies the means..._

Maia couldn't keep the smug grin off of her face, "Thank you. Which texts would you like me to read?"

Professor Burbage stood up from her desk, and walked along the bookcase behind her. She came to a sudden halt and plucked a leather-bound volume from the shelf. "This is a volume of muggle poetry. Why don't you read it, and we'll have tea next week and see how you're getting on?"

"Thank you very much, Professor."

...

That night, Maia sat on her bed and flicked through some of the first pages of the book.

_No man is an Island,_

_Entire of itself,_

_Each is a piece of a continent..._

_...Therefore, send not to know _

_For whom the bell tolls_

_Because it tolls for thee._

She slammed the book shut and stuffed it under her pillow and Daphne and Tracey walked in and sat themselves down on her bed.

Daphne took a deep breath, "We need to talk about Parkinson."

...

"So she's the one who set this whole Quidditch thing up?" spat Maia.

Tracey nodded, "I thought Daphne suggested to Flint that I could play, but it was Parkinson. And she told him to suggest Chaser first, and then persuade me to play Seeker after I'd got into the habit of going to practice. _Apparently_, it was so I wouldn't feel as though I were hurting your feelings."

"It was only when I told Daphne that Flint wanted me to play Seeker, and how she felt about this, that it all became clear."

"Because she set Draco up to play Keeper as well."

"Knowing that _I _would be thrown off the team."

"And hoping that we would fall out over it."

Maia slumped back on her pillows, "So she won this round."

Daphne tossed her hair, "Only for about two hours. It was hardly a _decisive_ victory."

"But it was _still_ a victory."

Tracey shrugged her shoulders and moved around to pull the pins out of Maia's hair and start braiding it for bed.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Besides, you're going to be thanking me even more in a minute."

"And why might that be?" said Maia, still cross.

"Because I have a plan."

Daphne sat up straighter, "Do tell."

Tracey grinned, looking as evil as the day she had decided to send Finnegan and Thomas after the dragon. "Well, Parkinson wants to be Slytherin Princess. And she wants to throw Maia off the track of getting that oh-so-coveted position."

Maia raised an eyebrow, "Well I was _considering_ taking over from Queenie when she left..."

Daphne slapped her hand playfully, "Oh, don't be so sly. I know full well that you've been planning it since first year."

"You've got me."

"Well, Maia, as evil as you are, you're only one Slytherin."

"Go on."

"What if there wasn't _one_ Slytherin Princess for Parkinson to fight against, but three?"

"Oh, Tracey, you're good."

"I know."

"So what exactly are you prosing?"

"An alliance, between the three of us. We will each be a Slytherin Princess, and will work everything out between us. No individual plans or plots, we do everything together. We do everything as a team, and don't let anything divide us. And when we're in fifth year, we hold court together."

"I like it." Said Daphne. She was smirking, and Maia could see her mind whirling through various evil plots.

"I agree." Said Maia, "After all, no witch is an island unto herself."

"I like that, where did you hear it?"

Maia shrugged, "I can't quite recall, but it does fit. We're all in this together."

Tracey finished tying the braid, "Until the bitter end."

"You mean, until Parkinson's bitter end?"

And the three girls laughed.

...

**Obviously, the poem 'No Man Is An Island' belongs to John Donne, and not to me. **

**Thank you for the response to the last chapter, and again, comments are always welcome. **


	74. The Fairest of them All

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Seventy Four _– The Fairest Of Them All_

Maia smiled pleasantly at Pansy Parkinson, as she sat down to breakfast the next morning. She helped herself to a cup of tea and a few slices of toast before looking up and smiling again. "Oh, Pansy darling, I just knew there was something I had to tell you. Thank you _so_ much for suggesting that Tracey try out for the team. It was a stroke of genius. Simply marvellous. I'm so pleased for her, and that Draco is now playing his favourite position. And all that mud just really wasn't to my taste. So common and vulgar. I much prefer riding for pleasure." She paused to stir her tea, "Tell me, do you play?"

Next to her, Tracey and Daphne smirked.

...

Cassiopeia Black appeared in the main entrance hallway of Black Manor. It was called a Manor because that was what one traditionally called the family seat. In all honesty, this placed ought to have been named something like Black Castle. But tradition came before all else, and rightly so.

Anyway, Black Manor was, as far as the muggles were concerned, an uninhabited and dangerous islet called Rockall, too far out in the North Atlantic Ocean for any of them to really care about it.

To Cassiopeia Black – and all her ancestors and all her descendants – it was home.

It was a place of honour, nobility and refinement. A testament to their pedigree and prestige. A bastion of purity.

Their castle was the only structure on the islet, although to any muggle or non-Black, the whole thing was merely one large, jagged rock. It was one of the safest places in the British Isles, although perhaps not the most comfortable. In the name of tradition, no Head of House had really modernised the castle since the twelfth century. It stood proud and tall, with turrets and towers, with row upon row of dusty suits of armour, and thick rugs which had not been walked upon in over a decade.

The Manor was asleep.

As she walked through the corridors, ignoring the cobwebs and the spiders and the rats, she trailed her hand along the wall. This place had not been used since before Walburga and Orion had died. Even now, it shook her to think how close the House of Black had come to falling.

But of course, they were still standing. And now they had an Heir, a pureblood Heir, who would continue the family line for generations to come. They would grow strong and great again. The Manor would one day come alive again, the carpets would be clean, the armour would shine, and the family would reign supreme over the wizarding world. Sirius Black's escape was a setback, but it was nothing. It would be alright. Cassiopeia had always known, from the day she found out Maia's heritage, that her tenure was not the last gasp of a dying nobility, but a waiting game, a sleeping period, until they could come again in fire and in glory.

She sighed.

Today was not the day to wake up the Manor.

Every room she went into was packed up, covered up and draped in dust-laden preserving cloth.

But she took the time to stop and gaze out of one of the windows. The islet was larger than is appeared to the muggles, or witches and wizards of lesser blood, and was more than just a rock. The incline was not gentle, but long enough for grass and heather to have grown. Waves beat against the rocky sides of the islet, and the overcast sky kept the view in shadows. In the sunlight, the prospect was more pleasing. But in light or dark, the view was powerful, commanding and dramatic. Just like their House.

Not far away, she could see where the stables and grazing fields used to be for the Aethonan used to be kept. She had enjoyed flying them in her childhood. Perhaps they could purchase some more? She turned back to the Manor, walking through the library. A large, square room, in covered a multitude of floors. The outer wall of each lined with bookcase after bookcase, reached by one of the spiral staircases in each of the four corners. Light came through from the ceiling, which was charmed into invisibility, and reflect the sky outside. After simply looking around her for a moment, she turned and left, closing the door behind her. She remembered losing Dorethea in the library, when they were just girls.

She went to the walkway, which hung over the open courtyard. She looked down into those pathways and pleasure gardens. She had hid behind the rosebush to read her love letters when she was young and still beautiful. Oh yes, she remembered with a smile, she had been a young, dark-haired beauty. With bright blue eyes, and pale skin, and full lips. The Black women were all aristocratic, all elegant. All attractive to a greater or lesser extent. But she had been beautiful.

She hoped Maia would grow into her looks. She wanted her to be more than just pleasing. But she imagined she would come to look ever more like dear Bellatrix had done: refined and cold.

And that was nothing to complain about.

Cassiopeia shook her head. She wasn't wandering aimlessly. She was looking.

Not that she had forgotten where she had put it.

No, she would not forget _that _day.

But first she had something to complete. Two names to blast off the tree. A formality to complete her work with the goblins.

That was finished quickly.

And then she found it.

...

"And what would yours have been? A piece of homework where you only got nine out of ten?"

Hermione stuck her nose in the air, "Don't be so childish, Ronald."

She turned round to stalk to the library – it was the end of the day for the rest of the school, but for her, the nightly homework battle was only just beginning – and saw Maia Black walking in the same direction.

"Maia!"

Maia turned and inclined her head, "Good evening."

"Ronald is _so_ infuriating at times."

Maia raised an eyebrow, "Yes, what's this about you only having a nine out of ten?"

Hermione huffed, "I did _not_ have a nine out of ten. We dealt with a Boggart today in DADA, and I was just wondering what mine would have been. Didn't you do the same with Professor Lupin?"

Maia shook her head, "No, we only studied the theory."

"Perhaps he hadn't found one in time for your class."

"Perhaps."

Hermione tried to adjust the weight of her heavy bag of books, "Well, what do you think your Boggart would have been?"

Maia frowned. What would it have been? Nobody had asked each other in Slytherin. Asking a fellow snake to tell you their greatest fear or weakness was something of a social _faux pas_ in the house of the secretive and back-stabbing.

She thought for a moment. Would it be seeing her mother dead, alongside her father? Or her Aunt Cassiopeia? Or Draco? Then she remembered Holly and Rosie. Would her fear be everyone she loved declaring that they didn't want her? But if it was one thing she didn't have to worry about, it was Draco turning on her. They would always be together. No, she wasn't frightened of Holly and Rosie or any silly fears like that anymore.

No, when she thought them over, her fears were anything but childish or insecure.

If she was honest, she didn't want to know. Why would she force herself to face what she feared most? Why would she look upon the thing that shook her to the core? She had ideas, but why would she force herself to find out the truth? Her conjectures were bad enough. And she was safe, and a Black. She would never have to face her fears. She would never let her life come to that.

"Maia?"

Maia turned back to the girl next to her, "Yes?"

"Do you know what your Boggart would be?"

"I couldn't really sa-"

Maia cut herself off when she saw Pansy Parkinson and Milicent Bulstrode.

"Maia, what are you doing with _her_?"

...

Narcissa Malfoy looked around the homey cottage. "Do you like it here?"

"It's been my home for over twenty years." Answered her sister dryly.

Narcissa nodded slowly, "My apologies."

Andromeda shrugged and began to cut the home-baked cake between them, "I wouldn't expect you to be able to understand." As she did so, she remembered the old joke with girls of their set. _If you never learn to cook, then you'll never have to_. The assumption behind it was that they would marry within the group of people who didn't know where the kitchens were, and who never saw their servants. For a long time, she had wanted that to be her life. And then, she had expected it to be her life. And then she met Ted. And discovered love, and after that, courage.

She had never set foot in a kitchen until the day she ran away to his parents' house.

She imagined that this was the first time Narcissa had entered a kitchen, judging by the way she had eyed the room, and lifted her skirts as she crossed the threshold.

Narcissa's voice interrupted her thoughts. "I did, though. I always did."

"Whatever do you mean, Narcissa?"

"I mean, that I understood."

Narcissa reached into her purse and pulled out Andromeda's wedding photo, placing it on the table.

"You kept that?"

Narcissa nodded, "I would have done anything to be with Lucius. Anything. I always loved _him_, the man. I'd loved him since I was fourteen. Everything else was just detail. Blood, money, politics, it was nothing compared to him, and the way he made me feel. I know our parents didn't intend for us to marry for love, and I never told them how I felt about Lucius. But for me, it was more than an arrangement."

"But if you understood that..."

"I simply said that the rest was just detail, I didn't say that it didn't matter at all. I never understood _how_ you fell in love with him, only that you _did_."

Andromeda bit her tongue, "Still, I can't believe you kept it. I can't believe you even read it."

Narcissa took a sip of her warm tea, "You were always my sister. Even when you weren't."

Andromeda sucked in her lips and looked away. She blinked rapidly. One should not betray one's weakness or emotion. "But that doesn't change everything else, Cissy. That doesn't change the choices you made. The things Lucius did... Your _details_... You supported him, you helped him, you believed in his ideals, and I'm sure you still do." She paused to laugh bitterly, "I mean, does he even know you're here? Would you ever tell him?

Narcissa ignored the questions, reaching out to cover her elder sister's hand, "But everything else _is_ just detail, isn't it? The thing that matters most is family. Us. _Please_."

Andromeda nodded once, her shoulders shaking, whilst tears rolled, glistening, along Narcissa's pale, cold cheeks.

"I wish we still had Bella."

...

Hermione stepped forwards, "And what do you mean by _that_, Parkinson?"

Pansy's lips curled unpleasantly, "I _mean_, what is Slytherin's goody-two-shoes doing consorting with a _mudblood_?"

Hermione's cheeks flushed, "I'll have you know that I'd rather be a _mudblood_ a hundred times than buy into your bigoted tripe."

Millicent folded her arms and surveyed Hermione dismissively, "Well, Maia? Are you going to say anything, or are you going to let the buck-toothed Gryffindor lecture us."

"Oh, how _witty_, Bulstrode. Anyone would think that inbreeding sharpened the mind if they listened to you." Snapped Hermione.

Maia turned away from Millicent as if she hadn't heard her and sneered at Parkinson, "Tell me Parkinson, did you enjoy all those months of detention with Filch?"

"Oh, are we going to run to the teachers, are we?" Although Parkinson took an involuntary step back.

"Yes. Running and crying. Because, as you know, I missed a whole year. My father's death is just _so_ recent for me, and your blood-purism is just so _hurtful_ to me, and to the memory of my _dearly-beloved_ father. And it makes me _so_ nervous to know that ideas such as yours are still rife, when Sirius Black is at large and I _just know_ that he would _love_ to wipe the only half-blood Black off the face of the earth. And I just can't _believe_ you are still bullying me, after everything that happened in first year. And after you _promised_ that we could be _friends_."

"Coward." Spat Parkinson.

"Thank you, although you don't need to complement my Slytherin skills all the time. One might start to think that you were a sycophant, Parkinson." Said Maia, with her nose upturned.

"Well, _Draco_ won't like it."

"Oh, I expect he wouldn't. But if I deny it, do you _really_ think he'll believe you?"

...

That same afternoon, Druella Black had an unwelcome visitor. She was about to supervise the polishing of her silver, when a goblin appeared in front of her.

"You are Druella Black, nee Rosier, widow of Cygnus Black."

It wasn't a question.

Her world suddenly seemed to slow, and it blurred at the edges. She couldn't comprehend how this could possibly be happening to her. How could this be happening? Was it really happening?

"Are you?"

"Yes... yes I am." She replied, her voice hesitant.

It was really happening.

"Then it falls to me to inform you that Cassiopeia Andromeda Black, as Acting Head of the House of Black until such time as Maia Violetta Black reaches her majority, has formally, legally, genealogically and financially disowned you from the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. You are to vacate these premises forthwith, and I am to supervise you, and to ensure that you take nothing to which you cannot claim ownership."

She had really done it.

Cassiopeia had followed through on her threat.

As she should have known she would.

Druella had lulled herself into a false sense of security, but then, to throw her off so entirely, so permanently, would of course take time.

"And to what am I able to claim ownership?"

She thought she saw the goblin smirk. "Well, as you've been living at the expense of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black since the time of your marriage, and as the Rosier fortune was squandered... pardon me, _donated_ by the late Evan Rosier to the Dark Lord, Madam Black has been kind enough to allow you to keep your wand and the clothes on your back. If you would like to follow me, I'll show you the way out."

And that was how Druella Black appeared at Crabbe Manor that very same night, searching for her also disowned mother-in-law, with nothing but the clothes on her back and the wand in her hand.

...

As Parkinson and Bulstrode disappeared down the corridor, Maia and Hermione remained in silence.

Hermione took a deep breath, "Would you really deny it? Would you really deny that we're friends?"

Maia looked away, "You know, friendship might be taking it a _bit_ far, Hermione."

"You can pretend all you want, Maia. But first name terms, a summer-long correspondence and a joint attempt to save to school from a blood-thirsty magical creature hints at more than a passing acquaintance."

"Well, have you told Potter and Weasley about our 'friendship'?"

Hermione wrung her hands, "Well, no. But I would, if you wanted me to."

"Well, I don't want you to. And I'm not telling Draco."

"Because I'm a muggleborn?"

"No, because family comes first."

...

Cassiopeia smiled. She walked over the wall and pointed her wand at the hanging mirror. The dust and the grime and the dirt vanished. The gild-framed mirror gleamed as if it were new, and a face appeared before her.

In the mirror on the wall.

"Hello, _dearest_ aunt." It spat.

"Hello, Cygnus, _darling_."

...

**The next update will be within one week. Reviews and comments are always much appreciated! : ) **


	75. A Mirror to the Past

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Seventy Five_ A Mirror to the Past_

The news that Druella and Irma had been disowned reached Maia, Draco and Vincent at the same time the next morning. Vincent had little to say on the matter, after all, it was his grandmother, while Draco and Maia laughed mercilessly and thought it to be a great joke. However, a further consequence of Cassiopeia's jaunt to Scotland was proving to be far less genial...

...

"If you think that I'm going to degrade my dignity by conversing with a mudblood loving-"

"Now see here-" interjected a pick-faced portrait.

"Most unseemly language-" cried Dippet.

"_Perfectly_ understandable, if you ask me..." said a snide voice, from a portrait which appeared to be empty.

"Well it's a good thing nobody did!" snapped Ambrose Swot.

Dumbledore held up a hand and turned back to the mirror hanging on his wall, "Now, Mr. Black, I understand your opinion of me, but it really is-"

"-If Cassiopeia has run our House into the ground, then she deserves to suffer for it. Perhaps I would be more amenable to help her, if she hadn't left me to rot in that manor on my own for nigh-on thirteen years!"

Dumbledore inclined his head, "I understand your frustration, Mr. Black, but-"

"-but nothing! I didn't put my soul in a mirror for vanity you know. I didn't want to spend an eternity in the confines of a bucket! I planned on _doing_ something with my immortality, and staring across an empty room was not it!"

"Cassiopeia informs me that she had her reasons."

"Yes, she was punishing me!"

Dumbledore turned round on his heel, "Cygus Pollux Black, in the name of your ancestors and on the honour of your House, you have been commanded to help my cause and I demand that you do so."

The image and torn soul of the late Cygnus Black turned his back on the headmaster.

...

Maia sat on her bed, reading through more of the muggle poetry. She traced some of the words with her finger and sighed. She had no intention of admiring these people because they were muggles, as she did not want to idolise them for the sake of appearing liberal and correct as the Weasleys were apt to do, but sometimes, when she read their words and felt their love and hope and pain, she admired them regardless. She admired them as her fellow men and women.

But that was something she would have to keep quiet.

But still, the poems moved her. She could carry her father in her heart always, she always would. She could see her father in the dawn, and in the setting sun. For her, only poetry could express that feeling.

And she shuddered then, when she remembered the Dementor. The Dementor took that feeling away; she felt as she had done on the day of his funeral, whenever they came near. She felt lost, abandoned and as though she would never know her father's love again.

But she _would_ know it, because she _did_ know it, because she felt that same love still herself.

And she knew what her Boggart was, although she would never tell Hermione, or anyone else, except perhaps for Draco.

Her Boggart would be all of them gone. It would just be her.

Alone.

Without her family.

Not because they left her, but because they were taken.

Or worse, gone because they had never really been her family in the first place.

She shook her head firmly. It didn't matter, because she would never have to see that. Her family would never leave her, and she had never stood before a Boggart. For all she knew, it could be something else entirely.

Maybe she was afraid of dogs, and hadn't even realised, she thought in a deliberately dismissive tone.

...

Prof. Burbage looked up and smiled as Maia came through the door. "Tea?"

"Oh, yes please."

With a tap of her wand, Prof. Burbage set the teapot to filling the cups, while the small pitcher of milk followed behind it.

Maia settled herself down in the chair, and placed the volume of poetry on the table.

"Well, Miss. Black, what did you think?"

"Some of them were rather... unusual, stylistically. Especially the modern ones, some of those didn't even rhyme. But the emotions were so powerful, I didn't know it was possible to put so much feeling into words..."

And so, as they sky grew dark around them, the blood-purist and the muggle-lover discussed Keats and Yeats and Frost and Shakespeare late into the night. And when Maia left, she did so with a copy of _Jane Eyre_ tucked under her arm.

...

Draco leant back in the armchair, and kicked his feet up to rest them on the table. Blaise lounged on the floor next to him, with his top button undone and his tie loosened. Daphne and Tracey sat huddled together on the sofa closest to the fire, while Pansy and Milicent sat on the floor, pouring over their Potions homework.

"Where's Maia this evening? Don't tell me she's in the library again." Said Draco.

Daphne looked up, "Oh no, she's gone to see Prof. Burbage."

Draco smirked, "I take it she's in trouble for pointing out a few home truths in class? I don't know why she's putting herself through it, even if _does_ please her mother."

"Actually, I think she's doing some extra-curricular reading."

Draco started and almost fell out of his chair.

Blaise rolled his eyes, "Don't worry Draco, I'm sure she has an ulterior motive."

Daphne smirked, "Of course she does. She's Maia."

Pansy looked up, "Oh yes, she must have _something_ going on. I saw her talking to the filthy Granger mudblood in the corridor earlier."

Milicent looked down at her work with renewed vigour.

Tracey shrugged, "Well, she's either up to something or she isn't, but she's hardly standing on a soapbox proclaiming a muggle-loving revolution, so I don't think it's anything for us to get worked up about. Besides, _muggleborns_ aren't dangerous, Pansy. I'll have you know that my _father_ is perfectly tame."

Blaise let out a bark of laughter, and Tracey grinned at him.

Draco nodded sagely, "Tracey is perfectly right, as always."

...

September soon rolled into October, and Hallowe'en was upon the Slytherin third years faster than they had imagined possible. Kitted out in their millinery and finery, Daphne, Tracey and Maia descended the stairs to the Common Room, where the boys were waiting for them. The three girls weren't going to point it out to Draco (discretion is the better part of plotting, after all) but they were rather pleased that Parkinson and Bulstrode had detention and couldn't join them. Especially as _they_ were the ones who had set them both up with Prof. Flitwick to get detention in the first place...

"Are you girls _finally_ ready to go?" said Blaise, looking as though he wanted to step around them and block their route back to the dorms, just in case they weren't.

"Of course we are, and we're only ten minutes late. Beauty is an art, boys, it can't be rushed." Said Daphne, waltzing past them to the door, "Now hurry up, I want to go to Gladrags..."

And so they walked down into Hogsmeade. Once they were there, Tracey and Daphne split off to go to Gladrags, while Vincent and Gregory went to Honeydukes and Maia, Blaise and Draco wandered through the book and quill shops, before heading to the Three Broomsticks, where they would be meeting the others for lunch in an hour.

As they were so early, they didn't have any trouble getting a table. Draco went to order the first round of butterbeers, while Maia and Blaise warmed their hands in front of the fire. Two very familiar faces then appeared in front of them and bowed in unison.

"Back from the dead then, Maia?" grinned Teddy, while Adrian elbowed him.

"Ignore Teddy, he has no manners. How are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you, would you like to join us?"

And so they did, and they spent the afternoon catching up, commiserating, and speculating that maybe Maia could rejoin the team next year, as she was, it was widely agreed, much more fun to have in the Chaser formation than Flint. Teddy joked constantly, while Adrian was as gentlemanly as ever. Maia had missed them, far more than she had missed Quidditch.

...

After the feast was over, the Slytherins headed back to the Common Room to prepare for the Hallowe'en celebrations. Once again, the apples predicted that Maia's true love would be a 'J'. Bertram was just clearing the furniture back so they could start the dancing and calling for visions from the Other Side, when the entrance to the Common Room was flung open and Prof. Snape strode into the room.

His dark eyes were blazing with some hidden fury, though his face remained as cold and empty as ever.

Silence fell as quickly as the bottles of firewhiksey were vanished.

"Sirius Black has broken into the castle. Prefects will lead you to the Great Hall. You will remain there. You will not ask questions. You will obey all orders."

He paused and glared at them, "What are you waiting for? Move! Now!"

...


	76. Heart of a Dog

**I do not own Harry Potter**

**Trigger warning: grief, violence and death.**

Chapter Seventy Six_ – Heart of a Dog_

_A few hours previously..._

Sirius held his breath as he looked around the Shrieking Shack. This place held so many memories for him. Over there, he had watched Remus transform for the first time. By the fireplace, they had all snuck out to drink firewhiskey and celebrate the day that Lily Evans finally allowed James' to take her to Hogsmeade. He walked over to the broken sofa. Peter had hidden behind there when he and James had lost their tempers over the Snape-incident...

His insides burned thinking of Peter, and he silently transformed and made his way down the hole, towards the Whomping Willow, towards the grounds of Hogwarts, towards the Gryffindor Common Room, towards his revenge...

He slipped into a broom cupboard as a horde of students – young and happy – ran into the Great Hall. He watched them go past through a crack in the wood, and although he knew he was wasting time and indulging fantasies, he sought out the faces he recognised. He knew the red-heads would be Molly and Arthur's children, even if he hadn't recognised them from the newspaper.

He saw a round-faced boy who could only have belonged to sweet Alice Prewett, or Alice Longbottom after she married Frank. Of course, there was nothing sweet about her when she was in Auror-mode. Or when she was cross with Frank. He chuckled to himself.

A cry caught in his throat, when Harry walked past.

James' boy.

Prongs' boy.

He was smiling. He was happy. He was with his friends.

He watched the Slytherin's come up from the dungeons. Though they didn't run, of course, they stalked along with their chins stuck out. The sharp-faced, blonde boy could only be Malfoy's brat. Sirius did a double-take at the girl by his side. She was the spitting image of Bellatrix.

The spitting image.

Dark hair, pale face, cold blue eyes.

Someone else must have had another. Who? Narcissa? Aunt Druella? She was still young enough.

Either way, the girl was another Death Eater's spawn.

Another child which had lived, while _his _had died.

What would Annie have been like now? She would look like her mother, of course. He knew she had the sharp blue eyes of the Black family, but he imagined that her dark locks would have faded to auburn or brown as she grew older. She had only been a baby, after all. She would have her mother's freckles too, and her mother's laugh. She would be just like Marlene. How could she not be?

He shook his head. The children we almost past and he could not waste the time. Not if he was going to make Peter pay.

He would make them all pay.

For James.

For Lily.

For Annie.

For Elena.

For Annabelle.

For Marlene.

He may not have a wand, yet, but he had a knife.

And that would do the job _just_ fine.

When the coast was clear, he slunk towards the Gryffindor Common Room. After all those years with just those four walls, he was surprised at how easily he moved around the large castle. He still remembered every well-worn step, every door that sometimes moved, and the face of the Fat Lady.

He transformed back into his human form and grinned, holding the knife behind his back. "Good evening."

The overly-plump woman paled, "You aren't supposed to be here."

He bowed his head, turning on the old Black charm, "But you've always been so lenient with me before."

"That was a long time ago."

"And I haven't lost my boyish ways, have pity on a chap and let me through."

"No."

"Oh, but don't you remember the time when I snuck Helena Beachem out to Hogsmeade for a romantic rendezvous, and you still let me in then? You remember her, surely? Pretty blonde, the year below me, a Hufflepuff, I think." He winked.

"I remember and I regret it. And I regret even more the times I let you sneak out with poor Marlene McKinnon."

His eyes flashed, "Don't you _dare_ speak about her."

"Oh, guilty conscience? Who'd have thought it? Well, you haven't given me the password and I'm not letting you in. That poor girl didn't deserve what happened to her, and her family, and I hope you rot in hell for what you did to her, and Lily, and James, and Pet-"

She was cut off when Sirius lunged, the knife held high above his head.

...

_Later that night..._

"The students are safe, that is what matters most." Said Kingsley Shacklebolt, his common-sense carrying over the hot-headedness of many of his colleagues.

"I still wish we could have got him." Said Amos, turning away from the group.

Albus Dumbledore leant back in his office chair. For once, none of the portraits feigned sleep. Even Phineas was listening with a grave expression, although Cygnus had faded away into the depths of the mirror, and could not be seen. "I must thank you for your time and efforts."

Remus shook his head, "We can look again. It can't hurt to look one last time."

Dumbledore smiled sadly, "The students will remain in the Great Hall for the rest of the night. Anyone who wishes to continue their search is more than welcome to do so. It may be futile, but I for one will not be able to sleep tonight."

The Aurors and teachers nodded and filed out of the office one by one, their heads hung in defeat.

Remus held his wand aloft as he walked the familiar corridors. His guilt weighed heavily in his stomach, like a physical ailment. But there was nothing he could tell Dumbledore, not really... And how could he admit just how grossly, and how frequently, he had betrayed his trust as a boy... But was it not worse to continue to do so as a man?

"Wotcher, Remus."

He turned to see a dark-blonde walking towards him, looking slightly taller than he remembered, "Good evening, Tonks."

"Would you like some company?"

He turned and continued his search, "Two sets of eyes are better than one."

She shook her head, "You know, Remus, we have to stop meeting like this."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it does look bad that we only ever see each other when we're on the hunt for mass murderers, or I'm helping you evade the law."

He shrugged, "I shall endeavour to hide myself from prosecution more carefully in the future."

Tonks laughed, "You could do something else about it, you know."

"Like what?"

"You could take me out for dinner."

Remus frowned, "But what would that do about my potential prosecution, or your mass-murdering cousin?"

Tonks resisted the urge to bang her head against the wall, "Absolutely nothing, but it would allow us to meet under better circumstances."

Realisation dawning, Remus bit his lip and looked away, "I'm sorry, Tonks, but I really couldn't... You must understand..."

Tonks sighed heavily, before stopping where she stood. Remus continued for a few more paces, before realising he was alone. He paused and turned back to her, "I really couldn't, Tonks."

She smiled, "Well, maybe you _can't_, but I _can_. Remus Lupin, I would like to take you out to dinner, on the next Hogsmeade weekend. Now, surely you're too much of a gentleman to stand a girl up?"

And with that, she turned on her heel and skipped down the corridor.

...

"So did she threaten you?" whispered Tracey, as Bertram's footsteps faded away. Of course, Bertram knew full well that none of the Slytherins were really asleep, he just didn't want to catch them out. And the rest of Slytherin knew this.

"Yes, she said she'd go to Draco. She probably thought she could make him turn on me for my blood traitor ways."

Daphne sniffed, "As if Draco would betray either of us, we're family."

"I know."

"And you're _suddenly_ a blood traitor? How was she planning on spinning that? So you have a civil conversation with Granger now and again, I mean, I wouldn't want to, but it's hardly a scandalous act on its own. One doesn't _have_ to be fanatical about these things – look at my family." added Tracey.

Maia nodded, "And besides, and you might want to file this away for future reference, Parkinson's lying when she says she's a pureblood. She's a halfblood."

"Really?"

"I shall file that away. How do you know?"

"I Saw it in first year. Witch for a mother, pureblood I think, and a muggle for a father. I spoke to her about it as well and promised to keep it a secret, but I think her recent actions have invalidated our agreement."

"Oh, more than invalidated it..."

The girls snickered, and covered their mouths when Queenie walked past. She rolled her eyes and waved her wand, "I've cast a silencing charm over you," she whispered, "so lie still and plot to your heart's content. Just don't tell Bertram."

The three girls grinned as Queenie walked away. Daphne smiled, "And that's why she's my favourite sister."

"When's Astoria starting?"

"Not until our fifth year."

"Talking about families, your crazed first cousin _once removed_ just tried to slaughter us all in our beds, how does that make you feel?"

"Simply wonderful." Snapped Maia, "It just really makes me want to bring out the tea and biscuits, you know."

Tracey grinned, "You know you love me really."

Daphne rolled her eyes and looked at her watch, "Come on, unless either of you have anything constructive to say, I want to go to bed. I don't want to have bags under my eyes in the morning..."

...

It was long past midnight before Maia fell asleep, and she was sure that the immanent closing of the gap between the worlds would stop her having any vision.

And so she dreamed of little things, moments from her day, snippets of conversations, memories of laughing with Adrian and Teddy, until she was slowly walking along the edge of a cliff face.

Her nightgown whipped around her as the sea-air came in from the ocean. She staggered slightly, and looked down to see the dark waves – grey and black – smack against the cliff. The only light came from the stars and the moonlight. No other light – muggle or magical – was within her sight.

"Perhaps you ought to come away from the edge."

She looked around sharply and saw a figure, half-hidden in the shadows and midnight darkness, leaning against a tree. Looking back down at the waves, and hearing their power, she decided to take his advice.

He became clearer as he walked towards her, and her eyes adjusted to the night. He was tall and handsome, slightly thin in the shoulders, with dark curls which tumbled over his forehead in the wind.

Maia stuck her chin out, "What do you want?"

"I want you to give my brother a message."

"You've wasted a Hallowe'en. I don't know you, or your brother."

The young man, not too much older than herself, simply smirked. "I don't have long before the Veil closes. Just tell him that I did right thing in the end. And tell him to finish the job."

"Weren't you listening? I said-"

"-Just tell him. You'll be able to tell him eventually, and Salazar knows I've waited long enough, without finding anyone who'll let me in. I can wait a little longer."

"Are you a fool?"

But then the boy on the cusp of manhood vanished, the rugged cliff disappeared beneath her, and she sat up in her sleeping bag, gasping for breath.

...

It wasn't until lunchtime the next day that she fully remembered her dream.

The boy looked like her.

Which meant he looked like _him_.

...

**A/N – Annie and Annabelle mentioned by Sirius here are different people. Annie is Maia, while Annabelle was Marlene's sister, who died before she was born, and for whom 'Maia' was originally named. **

**Also, I've had a couple of reviews referring to earlier chapters, asking about Harry's grandparents. I've looked at the Black family tree, and the link from Dorea Black and Charlus Potter to Harry is that they had one son, possibly James Potter. As it's not known for certain, I've given Harry a different relationship to the House of Black. I'm not complaining, I just wanted to promise that I have a reason and that it's relevant. And that's all I can say without spoilers! : ) **

**Happy reading!**


	77. The Debt of Honour

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Seventy Seven_ – The Debt of Honour_

_A Few Days Later..._

"I understand what you mean, Professor, I do, but I can't see how it would work in the real world."

Professor Burbage leant over her desk, clasping her hands in front of her. "Well, Miss. Black, what is the real world?"

Maia lifted her arm, gesturing to the room around them, "This. Us. We can't just change it, and make everything better and everyone happy, just because one novel has a happy ending."

"But who makes the real world?"

"No one. It is how it is, the same way it always was, the same way it has always been."

Professor Burbage shook her head, "Do you not believe you have freewill, Miss. Black? Can you not do what you want with your life?"

Maia sighed, "Well, of course _I_ can, I'm a Black. I have money and power and influence. It's the same for Draco, and Blaise, and Daphne, and Potter and Ernie and Diggory... But we're not everyone, are we?"

_Oh, you poor, poor child._

"But why can't it be the same for everyone?"

"Because it just _isn't_."

"But you want it to be better?"

"Yes, of course. Of course the world would be better, if people like Jane were treated well. If it didn't matter what she looked like, or who her family were. If she could say how she felt, without being afraid of judgement or scandal. If Adele wasn't in danger of being shunned. If those rich people hadn't been so cruel or self-entitled. But that's the way the world is, and novels get happy endings because they aren't real."

_I wonder if she considers herself cruel or self-entitled? I wonder if she is?_

"But, Miss. Black, you admit that you want the world to be better, and you admit that _you_ have freedom in your life."

Maia bit her lip; they had already gone over this and she was a Black, they were_ not_ a patient lot. _"Yes."_

"Then can I point out, that a good and brave _man_ once said: Be the change you want to see in the world."

"Was he a wizard?"

"Does it _matter_?"

...

_A Few Days After That..._

Maia and Justin were having their first tutoring session, and Maia was contemplating murdering the boy. Not because he'd had the audacity to ask her if she knew her times tables (she didn't know what these were, but she wasn't going to admit that and appear ignorant on _any_ topic: to do so would break the Seventh Rule), but because he had done something worse.

He had invited Ernie to join them.

Which had meant the invitation had been extended to Finnegan.

She'd _almost _thought about begging Blaise to join them to keep her sane and provide moral support, but he'd smirked and pre-empted her question by declaring that there wasn't enough gold in Gringotts to persuade him to willingly spend an hour in Finnegan's company.

And so now she was there, in the library, wondering if life imprisonment in Azkaban was worth the few moments of blessed peace she would get after murdering the boy.

"Come on, Black, crack us a smile." He _winked_!

"I am _studying_, Finnegan. I have no need to smile."

"Do y' ever _stop_ studying then? Because I've never seen y' smile."

"Perhaps your very presence sucks all of the joy and happiness out of my otherwise pleasant existence."

"Nah, it must just be that y' too uptight."

Justin pushed his sandy hair out of his face, "To be frank, Finnegan, I think that you're behaving in a very un-gentlemanly manner. Maia is a young lady, and she ought to be spoken to with respect."

Maia raised an eyebrow and the use of her given name, but instead decided to flash Justin with a charming smile – just like Aunt Narcissa had taught her – and said, "Thank you for being so kind, _Justin_. But then, you have the advantage over Finnegan. You're a gentleman, while _he _is not."

"There's never an excuse for poor manners." Said Justin, smiling back at her, and turning away their pile of books away from Seamus and Ernie. "Come on, we can get on with this, and you won't have to listen to him anymore."

Seamus rolled his eyes, "Sweet Merlin, you lot are boring. And y' not getting anywhere with those books. You ought to start with basic maths. Y' can't run before you can walk."

Maia sniffed and went back to the pile of numbers in front of her, wondering what linked them all together.

...

_And a Few Days After That Again..._

Although it had been hotly debated whether or not Draco should prolong his injury, in order to make sure the Hippogriff was definitely found guilty, in the end, Flint refused to hear of it. The Slytherin team was in too good a shape to pass up the chance to thrash the Gryffindors once and for all.

So, after sending Tracey off in the direction of the Changing Rooms, Maia, Daphne, Blaise and their two friends-who-they-all-loathed made their way towards the stands. The weather was even worse than it had been for Maia's one and only match in second year. As she sat upright in her grey outfit, she caught a glimpse of Hermione bundled up in a woolly hat and scarf and fought back the urge to snarl. _That_ looked so much warmer.

Luckily, Bertram was very obliging with warming charms, and Maia soon revelled in her ability to be both smart and warm.

She spent most of the matched clapping vigorously as Draco blocked goal after goal. While the Gryffindor Chasers were good, Draco was better. He was almost as good as Wood, and a few well-placed blocks by Vincent and Gregory (which surprised her as much as they pleased her) meant that by the time Wood called for a time out, the points were neck and neck.

Watching the team play in this foul weather made Maia less cross about her own removal from the team. And it was good that Tracey had found something to advance her position in the House. And it was good that Draco got to play his real position. And she really wanted to beat Gryffindor, more than she wanted to play herself. She couldn't make out Wood's face clearly, but she was fairly certain that he might cry soon.

The game soon started up again, and Adrian put another goal through the hoop after ten minutes. He saluted to her on his victory lap, and she curtseyed in response. She went back to concentrating on the game, and saw that Tracey and Harry were both starting a neck-and-neck dive towards the ground. The wind howled around them, blowing them off course, and they were so very high, and going so very fast...

Maia didn't realise that Daphne was holding her hand, until her grip started to hurt.

And then Maia felt as though she would never be happy again. She watched, in horror, as Dementors swarmed onto the pitch.

_Her dad was dead._

_Her mother was crying._

_The grown-ups were talking._

_Nobody liked her._

_Nobody wanted her._

_She was only to be pitied._

Daphne's scream brought her back to her senses, and her eyes focussed just long enough for her to see Potter land on the ground with a dull thud, that seemed to reverberate through the stands, through their very bones, in spite of the howling wind and rain.

He wasn't moving.

...

The three girls had lapsed into silence now. Even from her dorm, Maia could hear the party still raging in the Common Room below. Tracey had caught the Snitch, and Slytherin had won.

She hadn't even seen Potter fall.

Maia stroked the gleaming handle of her own broom, which she hadn't ridden in months. She traced the lettering, remembering the day she first rode it, the day of her first practice, the day of her first match, the moment she scored her first goal...

Maia looked over to the furthest bed, where Tracey lay staring up at her hangings. Tracey pushed Askella away, as the cat tried to lick her face, and sighed, "I wish they'd stop."

Daphne sat on the bed next to her, and stroked her hair, "I know, it's all in bad taste."

Maia nodded, "It's very crass of them."

"It's a hollow victory." Added Daphne.

"But it shouldn't even be a victory," said Tracey, "Potter almost died and the pitch was set upon by Dementors. I know we're Slytherins, but that goes beyond even _my _sense of morality and fair play."

A knock at the door made them all sit up, and Draco and Blaise walked in with a tray of tea and cake. "We thought you all might like some cheering up." Said Blaise, handing a steaming mug to Tracey.

Draco nodded and went over to Maia's bed and sat next to her, "I mean, I _won't_ dispute our win, but celebrating it isn't very tactful."

Tracey took a gulp of tea, "Thank you, I know you're lying, Draco, but thank you."

Draco shrugged, "Well, Blaise _does_ mean it, if that's any consolation."

Maia rolled her eyes, "Where would we be without Blaise? Our own personal voice of conscience."

Suddenly, Draco jumped off the bed, and pointed at the Nimbus Two Thousand on Maia's bed. "What's _that_ doing out?" His eyes were narrowed and his shoulders shook.

"Draco..."

"Don't 'Draco' me, sister. Don't tell me you're thinking what I think you're thinking."

Somewhere across the room, Tracey snorted over her tea, despite the rising tension.

Maia sat back against her pillows, and pulled her knees to her chest. "We were talking about it for a bit before you came up. You know I owe Potter a debt of honour..."

Draco shook his head, his eyes bright, "No. I don't care about that stupid debt. I forbid it, Maia. I won't let you. You're too good to owe him anything. Bloody Potter gets everything he wants, and I won't let him make you miserable again by taking away your broom. I'll duel him for it if I have to. You shouldn't let him do this to you!"

"He hasn't asked."

"Then why? For Salazar's sake, _why_? Your _father_ gave you that broom."

Suddenly, Maia jumped off the bed, her wand in her hand. "I know perfectly well who gave me that broom, and I don't need reminding. I don't take orders from you, Draco. And I have a debt to repay, and I shan't shame myself by avoiding it. It's a matter of honour."

"And what about family, what about family honour?" He spat.

"This doesn't have to be about family loyalty, unless you make it so."

They were getting dangerously close to each other, while Blaise, Tracey and Daphne had backed up against the wall. The Black temper was infamous – and Draco had more than enough Black blood in him for any fight to be vicious. They were also not used to seeing the two cousins – two siblings – fighting. They might snap or disagree occasionally, but they rarely raised voices, or truly fought in public. It was generally known that the two of them had each other's backs in all matters, and would fight back-to-back if they had to, and until their backs were against the wall if it came to that, for each other.

Draco snarled, stepped back, and bowed mockingly, "Very well, sister. If it's a matter of _honour_."

Maia snatched up her broom and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

She didn't want to do this.

She didn't want to do this _at all_.

...

**A/N – Thank you for all the lovely reviews from the last chapter. Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome – even if it's just typos. I know this story is probably littered with them. I do proof-read, but I just never have enough hours in the day after work! I'm hoping I'll have time to re-edit the whole thing one day, so telling me where they are is more than welcome. : )**

**Also, I had a couple of anonymous reviews with some questions that I'll answer here. There are no spoilers, but you don't have to read if you aren't interested:**

**Your maths is perfectly correct, but Sirius was just musing where on earth another Black child could have come from. He assumes that she can't be his, so someone must have had one that he didn't know about. He's just listing women of child-bearing age. **

**Also, yes, I've taken a couple of liberties with the Black family tree. Hence, Cassiopeia, Irma and Druella are still alive, and in this timeline Cygnus turned his wand on himself after Voldemort's fall, in 1981. **

**We'll learn more about the mirror and the man in it as time goes on. **

**Yes, that was Regulus. **

**That's all for now. **

**Kind regards,**

**R&L. **


	78. Honour and Dishonour

**I do not own Harry Potter**

**Trigger warning: Grief, blood-purism and Horcruxes.**

Chapter Seventy Eight _~ Honour and Dishonour_

Maia stood at the foot of Harry's bed, while her broom lay between them.

"Take it, Potter." She snapped, "I didn't come here to negotiate, and I'm not going to drag this out. I owe you a debt of honour, and you require a broom. Take my broom."

Harry ran his hand along the gleaming handle. It was in even better condition than his had been. Not that anything could ever replace his poor broom. "How have you kept it so well?"

She pinched her lips together, "I get it serviced professionally every six months. Doesn't everyone?"

Harry shook his head, wondering if it was just him who hadn't. No one had ever mentioned it to him. "It's very kind of you to offer..."

"It's not a kindness, Potter, it's a duty. Don't accuse me of sentimentality."

Harry looked up from the broom, "I appreciate it all the same... but, Black, I heard that your father gave you this broom. That's why you flew on this, when the rest of Slytherin had the newer model last year, isn't it?"

Maia glared at him, "And your point is?"

"Are you sure you want to give this to me?"

"I've already told you. It's not a want, it's a duty."

He picked up the broom and pushed it towards her, "I won't take it, Black. I don't care that you don't like me, but I don't think that you can be as cold and heartless as you act. Your dad gave you that, and I won't be the one to take it from you. You can't really want to give it away. I don't believe you. I know that I couldn't do it."

Maia stared at him dumbly for a moment, before snatching up her broom and storming out of the infirmary without a backwards glance.

...

A few hours later, Draco found Maia at the bottom of the steps leading up to the Owlry.

He handed her a few slices of toast, "You missed breakfast." He politely ignored her puffy eyes and red nose.

She took the toast and started to eat it carefully, "I was busy."

He sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "I'm sorry I was cross with you."

She leant her head on his shoulder and sighed. She hadn't noticed until then how much taller he was getting compared to her. Even his shoulders were bigger. "No, I'm sorry. I was upset about giving Potter my broom, and I took it out on you."

He nodded, looking out over the frost-covered grounds, "I should have realised. I don't like that you're indebted to him."

"I don't like it either."

"Did he take it? Because I swear, Maia, I'll duel him to get it back. I won't let him take that from you. Nothing gives him that right. Nothing."

"He didn't take it. He wouldn't. And now I'm stuck feeling _grateful_ to him."

Draco sighed dramatically, "Well, I suppose I'll have to find another excuse to duel him..."

She elbowed him, "I thought you were being the comforting older brother."

He shrugged, "It gets old quickly."

"No it doesn't."

"Fine. You're right, it doesn't. It never will." Still looking out into the distance, he added, "We'll sort this debt out between us, if we have to. He won't call you out on it, I'm sure. He wouldn't know how."

"I certainly hope not."

Draco smirked, "Well, if he does, I'm sure that you, Tracey and Daphne will come up with something." He paused, "I know you three are up to something." He tone was carefully offhand.

"Of course you do, but we're not plotting against you."

"Please tell me it's Granger."

"Sorry, it's not Granger. She's starting to grow on me, you know."

Draco shuddered, "Well, I most certainly hope it's not contagious."

...

In the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry sat in his favourite armchair, glaring morosely into the fire. Hermione sat on the arm rest next to him, patting his shoulder and looking on sympathetically. Ron was opposite them, his mouth hanging wide open.

"I don't understand."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "He's already told you three times, Ronald."

"But I don't understand."

"Really, is it _really _that hard to understand?"

Harry shrugged, "I had a similar reaction myself at first."

"You two are unbelievable. I mean, she's not the _nicest_ person in general, but she's not half as bad as you give her credit for."

Ron shook his head, "Hermione, three words: Filthy. Muggle. Manners."

"I never said that she didn't have a few _issues_, just that she's not as bad as you make her out to be. And Harry, I think it was very sweet of you to turn her down."

Harry nodded, "I'd never hand over my dad's invisibility cloak, and not because of how useful it's been. I couldn't take her broom from her."

She patted his shoulder, "I know."

Ron rubbed the back of his neck, "Why did she even offer? It's not like she's ever tried to be friendly before. In fact, she has been downright evil. I've not forgotten about Norbert, you know."

"She said she owed me a debt of honour, after the Chamber of Secrets last year."

Ron threw back his head and laughed, "Oh Merlin's pants, that's brilliant! Harry, you know you can ask almost _anything_ of her! I mean, anything short of her life or her House or her wand. Sweet Godric, you could have her openly declare Muggle Rights to all of Slytherin."

Harry frowned and looked at Hermione. She nodded, "It's true, Harry. The old Houses do still keep those traditions, though they're no longer legally binding. I looked a lot of it up last year, when I was researching genealogy to prove you weren't Slytherin's Heir. Anyway, in all technicality, if we chose to, Ginny and I could both declare a debt of honour. And to Ron, seeing as he went with you to save us. Oh, and to Professors Black and McGonagall as well."

Ron grinned, "Hermione, in order to remove your debt of honour, you have to do my homework for the rest of the term, no make that the year!"

Hermione sighed, "And what will you learn then? What will you do in fourth year? Besides, I'm not putting myself in your debt. Like I said, I have no legal obligation to do so, and I don't have a House honour code to force me to do so either. So do your own homework."

Ron huffed and leant back in his chair, deflated. "Well, Harry, what are_ you_ going to do about Black's debt?"

Harry shrugged, still looking back in the fire. "Nothing. I don't want anything from her. If I ask her for anything, it'll be for some peace and quiet."

Hermione patted his shoulder, "I think that's very sweet of you."

Ron frowned, "Since when have you been her great defender?"

Hermione stood up from the arm rest, "I'm not her great defender, Ron. But like any rational human being, I've gotten over what happened two years ago. Maia and I started studying together in second year. In fact, she helped me to work out what was causing the attacks, before she got Petrified herself. And we've been writing all summer. And I quite like her. In fact, I consider her to be my friend."

Now, both boys turned around to gawp at her with their mouths open.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, Ronald, when am I not?"

...

For their next tutoring session, Maia and Justin went to the library alone. Without Finnegan to distract them, they made much more progress than they had previously. Justin promised that she would soon be as good as him when it came to numbers, and Maia nodded in response, knowing that she _had_ to be.

On their way down to dinner, they ran into Ernie. "Good evening, how are you both today?"

They smiled, chatted about their day, and proceeded towards the Great Hall together. About half way there, Ernie suddenly clapped Justin on the shoulder, "Oh, I say, I almost forgot. I heard from Mater and Pater today. They said that you'd be more than welcome to spend Yule with us, but that they are going to Paris for the holidays to visit a great-great aunt of sorts. She's something of an eccentric; ran off in her youth in search of a _bohemian_ lifestyle and ended up getting involved in radical Muggle politics in Paris, of all things. She wants them to come and help her straighten out her affairs, given that she's pushing 143. So it looks like we'll actually both be spending Yule with Maia."

Maia almost chocked, "Pardon?"

Ernie turned, "Oh, haven't you got the owl yet? My parents didn't want me to spend Yule here, or with our Great Aunt Melania. You know how fussy she is-"

"-Ernie! She's the Dowager Lady of the House of Black!"

Ernie shrugged, "I know, but it's true. Anyway, my father didn't mind, but you know how Mother gets about these things. She still treats me like I'm three, I swear. And she didn't want to deprive Justin of the wizarding Yule I promised him, so she wrote to your mother and Aunt Caroline said she'd take us both. I do like your mother, Maia. She used to throw you the best birthday parties. Although that near-miss with the chandelier was a bit of a damper on your seventh birthday..." He grinned at her. "I know she could have sent us to some of the other Macmillans, but I think that she wanted to show some sort of solidarity with the House of Black, given everything that's going on. And she has always liked your mother – they are both kindred mother-hen spirits, you know. Oh, and she fell out with my Uncle Edmund because he wants to make my cousin Elspeth Heir, even though she's a girl, and mother and father both think it ought to be me. I don't mind in the slightest about the Heir thing, naturally, but I suppose Yule with them would be a tad awkward after father him into a giant slug during their last argument..."

Maia took a few deep breaths after Ernie's long-winded explanation trailed away and smiled politely, "Oh, but of course we'll be thrilled to have you both stay. Nobody has ever complained of Black hospitality, you know. We'll all have a wonderful Yule."

...

After breaking off from the two boys, Maia went to make her way over to the Slytherin table for dinner. However, a tug at her elbow pulled her back as she passed the lions.

"Maia, I need to talk to you." Hermione whispered urgently.

Looking around the Great Hall, and seeing that they were already drawing attention, Maia raised an eyebrow, "Well, I certainly hope that you didn't want it to be private."

Hermione shrugged, "Harry and Ron know that we're friends."

"Oh? Is that all?"

"I thought you would want to know."

"I don't need their approval to speak to you, Hermione. Wasn't it you who tried to persuade me of the importance of female independence just a few weeks ago?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Really, Maia, you're unbelievable. You know it's not like that. I thought you ought to know. You're the one who didn't want to tell them."

"Yes, well, right know I have other concerns. Good evening."

And she turned on her heel, marching towards the Slytherin table.

...

Finally, Maia sat down opposite Draco.

"Is everything alright, cousin?"

She raised her goblet of pumpkin juice, "I raise a toast to political and social failure within the House of Salazar Slytherin."

Draco raised an eyebrow and tilted his head back in surprised, "I shan't drink to that! What's got you so riled? It's not Potter, is it?"

Given that her friends were now openly listening, and the rest of the House were doing so with varying levels of discretion, she drank the toast alone – with clear sarcasm – and put the goblet back down on the table before answering. "No, it's mother. She's invited Justin Finch-Fletchley to spend Yule with us, and Hermione Granger has informed Potter and Weasley that I'm her friend, and Aunt Cassiopeia is most likely going to burn me off the family tree."

Tracey laughed, "You're probably going a little far on the last one, Maia."

Draco, however, spluttered, "But I was going to spend Yule with you! The Blacks and the Malfoys always spend Yule together."

"I imagine we're _all_ spending it together." She said dryly.

"But that won't happen. Good grief, father would sooner Avada himself!"

"I am aware."

"Has Aunt Caroline told Aunt Cassiopeia?"

"I presume so, though I've only heard this from Ernie. I wouldn't have liked to witness that conversation though."

"Has she lost her mind? Have they both?"

"As to Aunt Cassiopeia, I'm sure that she has something planned. And given that mother's a muggle, Draco, I imagine she doesn't have the same reserves in inviting Justin as the rest of us would."

Suddenly, the entire table fell silent.

"Since when have you two been on first name terms?"

...

Late that night, a tall figure strode quickly through the corridors of Hogwarts, pausing for no one.

She snapped the password, making the gargoyle jump aside faster than normal, before sweeping into the Headmaster's office and rapping her wand on the smooth pane of the mirror.

Cygnus appeared again, "I wondered when you would be here."

"I gave you an order."

"And I am, rather conveniently, dead. I don't have to obey your orders anymore."

"Have you _no_ honour?"

"I recall you frequently telling me I had none during my lifetime. Why should I change in death?"

"I always knew you were a coward, Cygnus."

"And I always knew you were evil. Did you ever regret what you did to me?"

"Did you ever regret what you did to our House?"

"I never defied a single order, until now."

"You could have faced Azkaban with pride, like a man. Bellatrix went. Sirius went. Regulus died for the cause. But not you, not the man who had led them down that path. You were worse than Lucius. At least he wormed his way out like a good Slytherin. You didn't stand with pride, and you didn't connive your freedom. You just gave up, and for that I will always despise you."

"I hear you're standing against the Dark Lord now."

"Times change."

"And have you given up the old ways? Are you a muggle-lover now?"

"I stand for the House of Black, and the blood of the House of Black. What have you ever stood for?"

Cygnus shrugged, "That old argument no longer interests me. I made my arrangements so that I could be delivered to you, Cassiopeia. I thought that you could be trusted to carry out my wishes."

"You thought wrongly."

"I demand to be taken to my wife! As I should have been thirteen years ago!"

"If you so desperately wanted to be taken to your wife, you should have been taken to her directly. It is not my fault you pandered to her _fragilities_."

"Druella is a gentle soul, a rose. Although I'm not surprised that you can't comprehend the subject, such _delicacy_."

"Regardless, Druella is fanciful and weak. I never liked her. I never sought her company while she was a member of the House, and I certainly shan't seek it now."

His face sagged, their conversation forgotten in his comprehension, "She re-married."

"Oh no," said Cassiopeia, with deliberate brightness, enjoying her moment, "she's not a member of the House because I disowned her."

"How dare you! You piece of filth!" Cygnus pressed his face against the pane and beat it with his closed fist. "How could you? I'll kill you."

Cassiopeia smirked, "I'd like to see you try. I should have realised sooner that she would be your weakness." Cassiopeia shook her head, "Afraid of life and afraid of death. Cygnus, you are a sorry excuse for a wizard. But Druella was always the same, so it's no wonder you suit each other. I still find it odd, how your daughters all grew up to be so _alive_. Even Narcissa. Are you _sure_ they're your girls."

Cassiopeia's smirk widened as Cygnus beat the glass more forcefully.

"Silence, Cygnus. You want Druella? You can have her. I'll take you to her. But first, you do everything Dumbledore and I ask of you. When we are satisfied, I'll deliver you to her myself."

"You'll never keep you promise."

Cassiopeia raised her wand and levelled it between Cygnus' eyes. "We'll, you can't get there yourself. Mirrors don't come with legs, after all. And if you do not agree to my terms, I'll destroy you know. Fiendfire is something of a speciality of mine."

"Your terms are too vague, Cassiopeia."

"You have nothing to bargain with, Cygnus."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Never dare me."

The tip of her wand glowed...

"NO!"

...

Cassiopeia descended the stairs, to see Dumbledore waiting for her.

"Cygnus and I had a nice chat, he won't be giving you any more trouble."

...

**A/N Hello, thank you for all comments etc. I hope everyone is enjoying the story. I just wanted to check that everyone is still happy with the rating. I've not written anything explicit, and I don't intend to, but I'm aware that dealing with the House of Black means dealing with darker themes. Opinions either way are welcome, as I'm never sure how to judge these things. **

**Best wishes,**

**R & L. **


	79. Doubt Truth To Be A Liar

**I do not own Harry Potter**

'**Doubt thou the stars are fire**

**Doubt that the sun doth move**

**Doubt truth to be a liar**

**But never doubt I love.' ~ Hamlet, Act 2, Scene 2 by William Shakespeare**

Chapter Seventy Nine _– Doubt Truth to be a Liar_

Once again, Narcissa Malfoy and Andromeda Tonks sat in the small, cosy kitchen, with tea and cake spread before them.

Progress had evidently been made, as this time Narcissa did not lift her skirts when she entered. It was the seventh visit.

They had chatted about their lives, their friends, their former school-mates and had now fallen into a companionable silence. It was not how it used to be. Before, they would never have been silent. When there we three of them, at least one always had something to say.

But their most vocal member was gone.

And now they were only two.

"Andy, do you ever think about Bella?"

"I try not to."

"But do you?"

"All the time. Ted doesn't like it, and neither does Nymphadora. I don't think they understand. I mean, they understands, conceptually and intellectually, that she is my sister and I can't stop loving her, but in truth, they just can't comprehend it. I think they pretend that I love an idea of her, a memory from long ago."

"But you don't?"

"No, I still love _her_."

"I still love her too." Narcissa paused, "I visited her once."

Andy raised a hand, "Please don't tell me. I can't imagine her there. I can't imagine her in that place, losing whatever of her that was left."

Narcissa shook her head, "You always did that, you know. You always split her into two people. _Our_ Bella, the Bella that was _her_, was _real_ and then the _other _Bella, the one who ended up belonging to them, to the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord."

"I know."

"Why?"

She shrugged, "I suppose it was hard to come to terms with the knowledge that they _were_ the same person. That _our_ Bella could do _that_."

"Do you think we could have done something, do you think we could have saved her?"

Andromeda looked down at her younger sister's pale and pleading face, "I don't know."

"I don't understand how she ended up like that."

Andromeda shrugged, "She made choices, just as we did. None of us planned for it to work out like this."

"No, we didn't, did we?"

"I didn't."

...

"I simply do not understand, Cassiopeia, how Cousin Lucius can be so unreasonable. He had no right to take that tone with me."

Cassiopeia looked up from her book. She had been studiously trying to avoid this conversation with Caroline, but the woman would not let it rest. She was like a krup with a bone. "Cousin Lucius has a very select group of associates. He does not wish to broaden it."

"One could hardly count a thirteen year old boy as an associate."

"But one _can_ be tainted by mere association."

Caroline's cheeks flushed, "And you, Cassiopeia? Will _you_ consider yourself tainted?"

Cassiopeia turned the page of the book and looked up archly, "You said he is the grandson of a Viscount, yes?"

"Yes."

"That he is old money?"

"Yes."

"That he has a grand inheritance?"

"Yes."

"That he can hold his knife and fork properly?"

"_Yes._"

"Then I'm sure I shall cope." She said briskly.

Caroline nodded and paused, before carrying on, "Cousin Lucius has been acting, rather... rather out of sorts recently, don't you agree?"

Cassiopeia held the page still, mid turn. "What makes you say that?"

"He was particularly... vehement in his critique of Master Finch-Flecthley. Given that he was talking to me, I should have thought he would have been more circumspect in his word choice. And his attitude towards Maia has only grown worse, despite that fact he knows she is a pureblood. He isn't rude, per se, more... subtlety disparaging."

Cassiopeia remained silent and still.

"Cassiopeia?"

She closed her book and put it to one side. "Caroline... there is something I must tell you."

"Oh dear, and these conversations never do go well, do they?"

"At least, this time, it is not me you will be cross with."

...

Silencing charms had been placed around the room, as Caroline and Cassiopeia sat together in the drawing room, talking earnestly and in unnecessarily hushed tones.

"You mean there has been a split?"

Cassiopeia nodded, "I am afraid so. The split has not been made public, but we can no longer rely on the Malfoys."

Caroline shook her head, "Maia will be devastated. Draco is her best friend, her almost-brother. How will I ever be able to tell her this?"

"She must not know."

"How can we keep this from her as well?"

"Then tell her about her father, if you can only keep one secret. Draco does not know. Even Narcissa does not know."

"Then how did this happen? How on earth could this happen? When?"

Cassiopeia stood and began to pace the room, her discomfort evident. "Last year, while I taught at Hogwarts and we were... not seeing eye to eye. Lucius wanted to remove Dumbledore, and I thought that was going too far. We were fighting Dark Magic, and while I hate Dumbledore, he is the Light's most vocal and well-known champion. If he was a deterrent, then I was not going to remove him. Lucius did not agree. He forced the other Governors to sign the warrant for Dumbledore' removal. He threatened their families... their loved ones."

Their eyes met, and they saw understanding there.

"Of course I won't tell Maia."

...

It was late, very late, and the rest of Slytherin had gone to bed. The other of the third years had been dismissed, abruptly, by Draco after dinner and he and Maia had sat side by side in silence by the fireplace since then. Waiting. The flames in the fire grate had slowly thinned through the night, until more embers glowed than the flames.

They had been waiting all day to be alone, but now that the moment came, words seemed to fail them.

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his pale blonde hair. In the firelight, Maia could imagine him twenty years, thirty years from now. He would be taller, broader, perhaps more grey than blonde and slightly lined. He would wear his power with ease, with grace. She could imagine him worldly and wise. And everything could have changed, she imagined, except for them, and their loyalty to one another. They were bound by ties tighter even than blood.

And when she saw that picture, it was always incomplete unless she was at his side. In it, she looked remarkably like Aunt Cassiopeia. And that image always made her happy, always made her proud. Aunt Cassiopeia was strong, unbending, _safe_.

Just how she wanted to be.

And this was the first time, the first time in her whole life, that she doubted her vision of the future. It wasn't something she Saw, it was something she imagined and believed. It was something that could change, although before tonight she would never have thought it would.

Finally, Draco spoke. "How long?"

She didn't need to ask what he was talking about. "Not long."

He shook his head, "You've let him take a great liberty."

"I know."

"Doesn't it bother you?" He was frowning, like he was looking at a chess move that he didn't understand.

"Not as much as it once would have done."

"How long have you been civil with him?"

"Civil is a relative term."

"Maia, this is us. Be frank."

"Since second year. He was kind to me. And he's a gentleman."

"He's a mudblood." He said the words slowly, as if he were trying them out for size.

"He's still a gentleman. Is my mother not a lady?"

Draco closed his eyes, "Your mother's different though."

"Maybe Justin is different."

"I doubt it."

Maia made to stand up. She couldn't bear to sit still, not like this. She wanted to pace. Merlin, she wanted to throw something.

Draco grabbed her hand, "Please don't."

She sat back down, her hand still clasped in his. "Are you cross with me?"

"I'm worried about you, and that's different. What about Granger?"

Her stomach clenched, "Since second year as well. We worked together to try and uncover Slytherin's monster."

Draco grasped her hand tighter, "That was stupid. You put yourself in danger."

"It was the right thing to do."

"You're too clever to believe nonsense like that."

"I also made a tactical decision."

Draco shook his head, "I don't know what to say, I don't know what to think."

She turned to face him fully, reaching out to clasp his free hand in her own. She slid easily off the sofa, and knelt down in front of him, forcing him to hold her gaze. "You don't have to say or think anything, Draco. It doesn't matter. I might have cordial conversations, I might even be friends, with Hermione and Justin – please, no, look at me – but that doesn't matter. My loyalty to you is beyond my agreement with Tracey and Daphne, beyond my family, beyond my House, beyond my blood. My loyalty to you is in my very being. Draco, you can doubt the whole world, you can doubt my politics, my motivations, my blood-purism, everything, but you must never doubt my loyalty for you, my affection for you as my brother. I would place your life above my own. I would do anything for you. As you would for me. I _know_ you feel the same. You must."

Slowly, Draco nodded. He dropped down from the sofa onto his knees, and pulled her tightly against him. They did not hold each other for long – that was not their way – but the briefest of moments can mean the most.

Nothing and no-one would ever tear them apart.

...

The very next morning an owl arrived for Maia, which she and Draco read together.

_Dearest Maia,_

_I am writing to let you know some wonderful news about Christmas, or Yule, if you prefer. _

_It seems that the Macmillans are wintering in Paris, and are unable to take Ernie and his particular friend Justin Finch-Fletchley with them. And, so, it has been arranged that they will stay with us._

_By all accounts, young Master Finch-Fletchley is a muggleborn and a young man of impeccable background. I know of his family myself. I think I danced with some of his relatives during my presentation at court. So, of course, I had no difficultly in extending them an invitation to spend the festivities with us. Ernie's friend is most eager to experience the wizarding celebrations of the holidays, and owing to some minor inheritance dispute, it is not prudent for Ernie to stay with the rest of the Macmillans, and none of us wish to be discourteous and rescind an invitation to his friend. _

_I know you will enjoy the extra company over the holidays. I for one am looking forward to having the house full of children and noise and laughter. The holidays are about happiness, and such an overflow of youthful high spirits will, I hope, lessen the blow of your dear father's absence. _

_Your Aunt Cassiopeia has agreed to the visit. I believe she is not as happy as I am, but she has never been one for company. I am aware of some of her views regarding muggleborns and muggles, but I believe that she can make an exception for the young Finch-Fletchley. He is, after all, the grandson of a Viscount. _

_Of course, the Malfoys will still be spending Yule with us, and you can inform Draco that he is more than welcome to visit whenever he likes. He will always be welcome in our home. It seems his father is displeased with my choice of house guests, but I am a grown woman of independent means and I will not be dictated to by someone almost half my age. _

_I will not, however, end this letter on a bitter note. Do not think that the Malfoys and the Blacks have fallen out, darling, we will not go the same way as the Yorkists and the Lancastrians. I have had a minor disagreement with Cousin Lucius. It is nothing of great import._

_So, my darling girl, I send you my love and my best wishes for you. I hope you are following all the precautions I asked you to take in my last letter, and to go to Remus if you ever feel the uncomfortable or uneasy in the slightest. I do not pretend to know how Sirius Black got into the castle, but you must protect yourself. You are the most precious thing in the world to me. _

_With all my love,_

_Your mother. _

...

**Any more opinions on the rating? Personally, I think I'll keep it like this and then see what happens after Voldemort's return. The story will have to become darker then, but I really have no intention of writing anything graphic or explicit, if I can avoid it. I prefer to write emotional drama. :) **

**Also, the quote at the beginning very obviously belongs to William Shakespeare, and not me! **


	80. Love Hopes All Things

**I do not own Harry Potter**

**Trigger warning: Language (well, at least in the HP-universe)**

'_Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things' ~ 1 Corinthians _

Chapter Eighty_ ~ Love Hopes All Things _

And so the days past, and late November became December, and the much-anticipated Hogsmeade weekend arrived. The streets were filled with to bursting with students, running this way and that, to spend their pocket money on presents to send home. The snow had fallen thick and fast for the last few days, and the bitter Scottish wind drove more than a few students indoors, in search of warmth, shelter and Madam Rosmerta's welcoming smile...

...

Harry ducked under the table, while Hermione cleverly levitated a large Christmas tree to hide them. Ron disposed of the extra butterbeer.

The trio held their breath as Minister Fudge, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, Hagrid and now Madam Rosmerta sat down around the table...

...

Remus pursed his lips, "Well, I suppose I can't complain that you're an _expensive _date."

He frowned up at the broken sign hanging above the door. _The Hog's Head_. The windows were grime-laden to the extent he could not see into them.

"Oh, don't worry Mowgli, I was planning on going Dutch." Tonks flashed him a smile as her hair turned from scarlet to bubblegum pink, and she walked into the pub with a skip in her stride. "Besides," she continued, "I'm sure you don't want to be spied on by your students, but I'm not above turning into Jessica Rabbit if you want to spread some scandalous gossip."

_Mowgli?_

_Dutch? He thought Ted was British? Andromeda definitely was? Wasn't she? _

_And Jessica Rabbit? He hadn't known Tonks was an Animagus. Although, for the life of him, he couldn't think why that would be a good joke, for him to take a rabbit on a date? Though she was right, it would spread some truly scandalous gossip!_

Still grinning – while Remus hung back in the entrance blinking rapidly – Tonks made her way to the bar, ordered and paid for two bottles of butterbeer, declined the proffered glasses, and went back to her still dumb-founded date.

"Are you trying to catch flies Remus?"

"Flies?"

"Yes, flies."

"Um, no?" 

"Then maybe you ought to close your mouth."

He blinked again. He hadn't been on a date, since, well, never. It wasn't really his scene. For good reason. But here he was, against his better judgement, bumbling along in a manner worthy of Peter. If he and James were watching, they had probably fallen over with laughter already.

Tonks gripped his arm and dragged him towards a table, away from the prying eyes of the other patrons. "Perhaps you ought to sit down, Remus dear."

He looked up to see that she was still smiling at him, and without thinking, he found himself smiling back.

...

"Who would have ever thought it would turn out like that?" Sighed Madam Rosmerta, dabbing at her eyes with a delicate handkerchief. Hagrid's large shoulders were shaking.

Flitwick nodded, "Those boys were the best of friends. The very best of friends. Who would have thought one would betray the other? I would never have predicted it. When I heard, I thought I would never believe it..."

McGonagall took a long sip from her drink, "And Peter Pettigrew. Loyal little Peter Pettigrew. All they found was his finger."

Rosmerta waved her hand, "Oh please don't say it again. I couldn't bear it. And the poor children. Poor Harry Potter. Black took everything from him."

Fudge nodded solemnly, taking a draught of Firewhiskey. "And he's not the only child who had everything taken from him-"

McGonagall looked up sharply, "-Minister-"

"-there's little matter of Black's girl as well."

McGonagall blinked, "Minister, I wasn't aware you were informed. Perhaps we ought to-"

Fudge waved her objection away grandly, "-There's very little that gets passed the Aurors, dear Minerva." McGonagall's eyebrows shot up. "And besides, we are all friends here. Although perhaps you can tell the story better than I?" He smiled knowingly at her.

McGonagall sighed and shook her head, knowing full well that Fudge would tell the story if she did not. "Very well. Perhaps, Hagrid and Filius, you will remember that Black married Marlene McKinnon?"

They both nodded, and even Rosmerta smiled sadly. "Those two were such a handsome couple. I remember him bringing her here on their dates..."

McGonagall closed her eyes, "Yes. Well, they married straight out of Hogwarts. There was a war, and that's what people did. And not long after, a little girl came along, a few months before James and Lily had Harry. It seemed as if everyone was having babies that year. Well, they called her Annabelle, and Black and Marlene seemed as happy as ever. None of us knew, none of us ever suspected, that Black was the traitor. Black made a point of leaving Annie with the Potters, and one day, just as normal, he dropped her off the stay with the Potters. He went off to work, while Marlene visited her family. It seems he thought she might be missing Ireland. That's what we were told later-"

Rosmerta gasped, "-Oh, oh please don't tell me. I remember reading about it. You don't, you surely can't be saying..."

Hagrid slammed his fist on the table, making the cutlery and glassware rattle. "Oh yes, oh yes she is. The whole family. The whole Clan. His own wife!" Hagrid's voice failed him, and he doubled over with sobs, burying his head in his hands. Flitwick reached up to pat him on the shoulder, while Fudge looked fairly scandalised at the outburst.

McGonagall simply nodded grimly, "Yes, it all seemed so obvious later, though we didn't see it at the time. We comforted him. _I _comforted him. But Sirius Black arranged for the murder of the McKinnons, for the murder of his own wife."

"But he kept his daughter safe?"

McGonagall nodded, "Yes, his precious pureblood daughter." The words left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Flitwick turned away from Hagrid for a moment, "But I thought Annabelle died as well? I remember that Mrs. Tonks arranged a small memorial for her, though there weren't many left to attend by that point." He paused, "No, that was later, wasn't it? After You-Know-Who was defeated?"

Fudge cleared his throat impressively, "That was what the public was told."

Taking a deep breath, McGonagall ploughed on, "Annabelle Black's death was faked. She survived the war. Dumbledore... Dumbledore didn't want an innocent child to grow up with the burden of Black for a father. He gave her a new identity." Her stomach clenched as she continued, "The poor girl doesn't even know the truth herself. He took her to some distant relatives, ones who weren't involved with the typical Dark magic of the Black family, who were happy in the muggle world. And they re-named her. They called her... they called her Maia Black."

...

After half an hour of talking to Tonks, Remus actually forgot he was a werewolf. He forgot that there was a reason he shouldn't be doing this. He forgot all the walls and barriers he had built up, not just to protect others, but to protect himself.

It was because she kept smiling.

Even when he'd stood in the doorway gawping.

Even when he tried to talk her out of continuing the date, on the grounds that he was old and poor.

Even when he'd told her that there was no way her family would approve.

She still kept smiling.

When he said that Ted would hunt him down and Avada him, she'd kept smiling. She'd said that she was more than confident in his duelling abilities.

Yes, it was shortly after that that he'd forgotten about the werewolf thing.

And now they were talking about work, about their memories from Hogwarts – heavily edited on his part – about their families – heavily edited by both of them – and about everyone else who happened to be in the pub.

Taking another sip from the bottle and placing it back down on the table, "So I didn't know you were an Animagus?"

Tonks raised an eyebrow, "Where did you hear that?"

"You told me."

"I couldn't have, I'm not one."

Remus frowned, "I'm sure you did. You said it when we arrived, that you could turn into a rabbit if we wanted to go to the Three Broomsticks. You said something about starting a scandal, which I'm sure it would."

Suddenly, Tonks clutched her stomach with laughter, "You mean Jessica Rabbit?"

"Yes."

"And you've never heard of her?"

"She's a person?" Starting to feel decidedly silly, Remus took a gulp of his butterbeer.

Laughing harder, Tonks screwed up her face and turned into a curvaceous red-head. Remus chocked on his drink, sending foam flying out of his mouth and over the table.

Screwing up her face again, Tonks went back to normal. "I'm not sure if I should be pleased or offended at that reaction." She was still smiling.

"Was that Jessica Rabbit?"

"Yes. She's a character in a muggle film."

Remus nodded slowly, "So I take it you aren't Dutch?"

...

The Golden Trio were still frozen in shook after the adults had left. Ron leant down and helped Harry up from under the table, "Are you alright, mate?"

Harry nodded.

Hermione stared down at her hands, which were clasped tightly around her glass. Her knuckles were white. "That was so... so horrible."

Ron grimaced, "Understatement, much?"

She shrugged, "I don't know what else so say." She paused, "Harry, are you ok? Do you need anything?"

Harry looked up at her, his gaze oddly dazed.

"Black killed my parents. Black was the one who betrayed them to Voldemort."

"I know. Harry, I'm so sorry. So, so sorry."

"I'll kill him."

Hermione's face paled.

"One day, I'll kill him."

"Harry, you shouldn't say things like that, mate."

"He deserves it."

Hermione's hands shook, "Oh, but Harry... _Please_."

Her eyes met Ron's, who shook his head, as if to say to let it go, that this was not the moment. Ron looked down at his empty glass, "I suppose we know now why Black's evil – I mean Black junior – I suppose blood will out."

Hermione closed her eyes, "Maia doesn't even know."

Suddenly, Harry looked up, "Why didn't they tell her?"

"Maybe for the same reason they didn't tell you about him, to try and protect you?"

"But I worked out for myself that he was after me, what if she doesn't know? What if she hasn't worked it out? What if he's after her as well?"

Ron shook his head, "Nah, mate, she's the Heir to the House of Black, he'll think she's doing just fine, following in his evil footsteps."

Harry shook his head, "I don't know. It doesn't seem right." He paused, "Hermione?"

Hermione chewed her lip. She knew that Harry did have a thing about saving people, even when they didn't always need it, but something about Maia Black not knowing the truth didn't sit well with her. And she wasn't sure of her safety either. "I don't know, Ron. Maia's friendly with me, and quite friendly with Justin. She takes Muggle Studies. She loves the people she thinks are her parents. And maybe, maybe he doesn't know she's his daughter. I've heard of the McKinnons, they're purebloods, and everyone thinks Maia's a halfblood. I don't think... I don't think he would like that." She tucked her hair behind her ears a few times, "I'm worried."

Harry nodded, "I think we should tell her." ...

After finally persuading Remus to put his gold away, Tonks heaved out a sigh of relief. "I can't believe it took half an hour to get that through your thick skull."

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose, "I only stopped because I didn't want to argue. I haven't agreed."

"The wizarding world really does need to embrace feminism. One of my muggle cousins has some great books-"

"- No thank you."

"You might like them." She was still grinning, and Remus couldn't quite comprehend it.

"Maybe you ought to tell me about Mowgli first, I'm still not clear about that one."

"Mowgli's a muggle boy who was raised by wolves."

And then he remembered.

And it all came crashing down.

He was still a werewolf.

"I'm sorry Tonks, I can't do this, not to you, it isn't right." He stood up, hurriedly fishing for gold to leave to pay the bill.

Tonks reached out quickly, "Remus, don't-"

"No, I'm sorry. It was wrong of me to come."

"Don't say that."

He shook his head, tossing down a few more sickles, not quite able to count. "I have to. I shouldn't be doing this."

"_Remus."_

He turned and started quickly towards the door.

She began to follow him. "Look, Remus, I'm sorry if I offended you. I should have realised that you don't want to make light of it-"

He stopped, but didn't turn around. "-No, it's not that. I like that you can see it that way. I like that you can look at me and see beyond the monster. I admire that about you. I admire that you can be so kind-hearted, that you can find something to smile about, find something to make you happy. You deserve to be happy. I will only make you miserable."

"Remus, you don't get to decide what makes me happy, or miserable."

"You're very young."

"So is that what this is about?"

His shoulders sagged, "No."

"Remus, just take a chance. _Do something._ You're not _living_. You're a good man. You deserve to live."

He shook his head and walked out of the pub, the door closing softly behind him.

...

After a busy day of Yuletide shopping, Maia was walking back to Hogwarts with Adrian Pucey. Daphne and Tracey had declined the visit to the village that weekend, claiming that they were bored with the dull, rural wares sold there already. The boys, on the other hand, were all still running between Zonko's and Honeydukes.

Maia was just cold, and wanted to get back early so she could work on Transfiguration and Arithmacey before dinner. She was not on track to get the 'O's required of her in either of those subjects. Adrian had been kind enough to offer to escort her, leaving Teddy in Zonko's to haggle over reducing the price of bulk purchases.

They were discussing French politics when voices calling out caused them to slow down.

Maia and Adrian turned to see the Golden Trio hurrying towards them. Maia raised an eyebrow.

Adrian frowned for a moment, and then smiled, "Oh, you're friends with the Granger girl, aren't you?"

Maia nodded, "In a manner of speaking, but not with Potter or the Weasel."

Adrian laughed, "Well, there's no shame in having _her_ as an acquaintance. She is very clever, if a tad over-zealous. The Weasleys, on the other hand..." He let his words trail away as the three Gryffindors finally caught up with them.

Hermione swallowed nervously, "Maia, I'm really sorry, but do you mind if we have a word with you?"

Maia raised her eyebrow in expectation.

"I meant, perhaps, in private."

"Is that really necessary?"

Adrian stamped his feet to loosen the snow there, "It's quite alright. I'll meet you back at the castle, Maia, if you're agreeable to speaking to them alone."

Maia sighed, "Very well. I'll see you in the Common Room, Adrian."

Now the four third years were alone, an awkward silence fell.

Maia started counting to ten, but made it to four. "So, what did you want to talk to me about."

Hermione shuffled her feet nervously.

Harry stepped forwards, "Black, do you remember that you owe me a debt of honour?"

"Ye-es." She said, hesitantly.

"Then can I request that you, on your honour, take what I am about to say seriously?"

"On my honour, I will take what you say seriously."

Harry let out a long, slow breath. "Sirius Black is your birth father. You were born Annabelle Black. Dumbledore faked your death after Black betrayed my parents and was sent to Azkaban. Your birth mother was Marlene McKinnon. Black murdered her as well. Maia, I want to tell you-"

"-don't you _dare_ spout one more word of that tripe, Potter, or I _won't_ be held responsible for my actions-"

"-Please, Black-"

"-Oh, please yourself. I'm not listening to this."

She spun on her heel, but Hermione reached out and grabbed hold of her elbow, "Maia, please. We're not telling you this to hurt you, we're telling you this to keep you safe."

Maia looked down at Hermione's hand coldly, "Get your hand off of me, _mudblood_."

The colour drained from Hermione's face, and she stepped back slowly. She raised her hand to tell Harry and Ron not to do anything. When she spoke, her voice was shaking. "Maia, I know you're upset. I'm sorry. I'm sorry to upset you, but-"

"- I don't want to listen to you, to any of you. You are lying to me. You are trying to tarnish my reputation. My parents are Marius and Caroline Black. You, Granger, are nothing to me. You can seek to degrade me all you want, but nothing you could do would ever drag me down to your level, or even to the level of Weasley or Potter. You are callous and interfering. You are despicable and ill-bred. You are all pathetic."

"Children, what's going on here?"

The four turned around to see Professor Lupin – looking distinctly worn – standing not a few feet behind them.

"Nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"It looks to me like you're arguing."

"We're not arguing, Professor."

Remus pursed his lips, "Well then, perhaps you all ought to hurry back to school."

"Yes, professor."

They turned to leave. Maia separated themselves off from the group.

None of them had taken more than a few steps, before Professor Lupin called out, "And Miss. Black, I would like you to wait for me outside my office when you get back. I would like a word with you."

...

Five figures faded away into the distance.

A large black dog, crouched down in the bushes, backed away from the scene. He turned his head to the side, and then the other. He shook it ferociously, until it hurt.

Then he howled, and charged away in the mountains.

Howling all the way.

_How could that be his Annie? _

...

**A/N - Well, there you have it. The moment you've all been waiting for. I hope it lived up to your expectations!**

**This will be my last update now until the holidays are over, however, I hope you can forgive me for this. I hope to post something after Boxing Day and before New Year, but don't quote me on that! ;) **

**Kind regards,**

**R&L. **


	81. A Brave New World

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Eighty One_ ~ A Brave New World_

Sirius ran high up into the mountains, his legs scrabbling at the rocks to find purchase as he climbed. His limbs flailed outwards, sending mud and snow and gravel up into the air around him.

Finally, he flung himself down on the cold floor of the cave and whimpered.

...

Maia stood bolt upright, with her chin jutting forwards, outside of Remus' office. She had never been in trouble before, not real trouble, where she'd actually done something she considered to be wrong.

But then, she'd only said what needed to be said.

And she wasn't going to cry. If Remus wanted to shout, or tell her off, or play the 'I'm disappointed in you' card, he could go right on ahead.

She was a Black; she could get through anything.

She set her face in its mask as she heard Remus' approaching footsteps.

...

Hermione sat in the library. She had placed her homework in two piles before her; complete and incomplete. She ignored the other students as they came and went. She simply pulled one piece towards her, finished it, and then added it to the next pile.

This was simple.

It was a mindless, brain-numbing task.

And that was exactly what she wanted right now.

She didn't want to think.

...

Harry leant back against his pillows. He'd pulled the curtains closed around his bed, although he knew that Ron was in the room with him. Harry had a feeling that Hermione had sent him up. Harry pulled the map out of his pocket. If he hadn't run into Fred and George that morning, if he'd stayed in the castle like he was supposed to, everything would be completely different.

He'd be down in the Common Room with Ron and Hermione, eating whatever sweets they'd carried back from Hogsmeade.

But instead, he was up here, wondering how it could be that his father could have been murdered by his best friend.

He opened the parchment and tapped it with his want, whispering, "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."

Carefully, he scanned the castle, looking for Professor Lupin's office.

There was Hermione, in the Library, probably reading up on Sirius Black. And he and Ron were in the dorm room.

And there was Professor R. J. Lupin, pacing his office by the looks of it.

And opposite him was none other than Annabelle Black.

...

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Maia held his gaze evenly.

"Are you going to answer me?"

She stuck her chin out a little further.

"Do you feel the slightest inkling of remorse?"

"For what am I supposed to feel remorseful?"

"For the vile word you called Miss. Granger."

Maia was silent for a moment, "Did you happen to overhear the rest of the conversation, sir?"

"Are you implying that Miss. Granger did something to _deserve_ that treatment?"

"Perhaps."

Remus began to pace the room, "And this offense she supposedly committed, was it something a _normal_ person would consider deserving of that insult, or just your Aunt Cassiopeia?"

Maia's eyes flashed, "I couldn't possibly comment on that, sir."

Remus paused for a moment, and ran both his hands though his hair before spinning back around, "Maia, I care about you. I really do. And I'm telling you this because I'm worried. If you start out down this path, you're on a slippery slope. And it'll be a dark and lonely road to ruin and hell."

"It was just one word, sir."

"It's everything that that word represents." He took a deep breath, "Surely, you can understand that? If I recall, you didn't enjoy being called it yourself? And what if someone insulted your father, Maia? Or your mother? How would that make you feel?"

"They're Black's, no one would dare insult them."

Remus turned away. He couldn't look at her. After everything they had all been through, she could not truly believe that? Still?

"Would you be so concerned if another student had said it, or are you more worried because of my family history? Is it because I look so much like Aunt Bellatrix?"

Remus took another deep and steadying breath, "I would rather ask you when you became so ill-mannered? So deliberately provoking?" He paused and turned back around, "Maia, is something bothering you? If there is, then please talk to me. I refuse to believe that you really feel this way. You are not behaving like the girl I recognise as Maia Black."

"Perhaps you've always refused to see the real me?"

Remus sighed, "Very well. Miss Black, thirty points from Slytherin. I'd give you detention, but to be frank, I would rather not be in the same room as you, as long as you choose to behave in this disappointing manner."

"As you wish, am I excused?"

He nodded and watched as the door closed behind her.

That meeting had achieved nothing.

Nothing at all.

He fought the urge to bury his head in his wand, and instead conjured a glass of firewhiskey, and pulled his quill and parchment towards him.

He dipped the nib into the black ink.

_Dear Caroline..._

...

Leaning against the wall of the cave, Sirius sought to steady his laboured breathing. His body was not strong enough, yet, to run like that. His heart was not strong enough to bear the exertion, yet.

But then his heart would never, _never_, be strong enough to bear the knowledge that that was his daughter.

Never.

That could not be his daughter.

That couldn't not be his girl.

His sweet Annie.

His girl was dead.

His Annie was dead, murdered, with Elena. Alongside Elena. The victim of Death Eater's, not one of them.

And his daughter - so small, so tiny - did not look like that. She had had blue eyes, that much was true. He could remember them well; they had been branded upon his memory with his realisation the day he had got that owl from Narcissa, the moment that he had realised he would never see those beautiful blue eyes again.

Clear blue.

Sky blue.

Pure blue.

She was alive, but he would still never see _those_ eyes again. Someone had done something to her, changed her, and made her into something terrible, something horrible. They had changed her, the way they had tried to change him.

And of course, they had succeeded.

Because who had been left to protect her?

Remus... What had Remus done? Where had Remus been? He had left her with him; she had been in his arms that morning, when he had gone after the rat. How could Remus let the Blacks get their claws into his little girl?

He took a swipe at the wall.

Or maybe Remus had tried, maybe they had taken her from him?

He wouldn't have put it passed them.

After all, Annie was still a _pureblood_, for all it was worth. Merlin, he remembered almost being disappointed when he realised he loved a McKinnon, a daughter of a family as old as his own. But then, one does not generally _choose_ to fall in love, Marlene had just snuck up on him.

And sweet Godric, she looked like Bellatrix! And was no doubt going the same way; driven by boredom and poisoned hatred and incomprehension of the world beyond her own.

Elegance and hatred and barbarity all melded together to send her to hell in a handcart.

_Mudblood_.

The way she said it, so cold, so dispassionate, so _sure_.

No, he wouldn't let it happen.

He wouldn't sit back and watch it happen.

He'd save her.

By Merlin, he'd get her back and he'd save her.

...

Maia didn't even bother to glance at the large measuring glass of emeralds on her way to the Common Room. She was thankful enough not to have detention that she didn't care about the points. She'd easily make them up in Potions, Charms and Herbology.

For all Remus wanted to avoid being with her, she was fairly certain that she wanted to see him even less.

She walked quickly along the corridor, keeping her head high in the air. Most of the students were coming back from Hogsmeade now, and the hallways were filling up around her. Part of her wanted to ignore them, to raise herself above them, as she was wont to do. But she couldn't do it. She watched them as they walked past, as they parted to make way for her. She watched their eyes, waiting for a flicker of recognition. She watched their mouths, waiting for them to speak.

She wanted to cover their eyes, to cover their mouths. She wanted to go back in time, and stop Granger and Potter and the Weasel from ever opening theirs.

Because, even after all the scandals of her Hogwarts existence thus far, if their _lie_ got out, and it _was_ a lie, she would never get over it.

She was Maia Black, the carefully cultivated, classically educated Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

She was not some murderer's half-orphaned child, an object of scorn and pity.

She said the password – _Erinyes_ – as she walked, not slowing down in the slightest as the wall vanished before her.

A quick glance around the Common Room showed her that he was not there, and she turned quickly on her heel, heading up to the dormitories. Without knocking, she opened the door. She turned briefly to Blaise. "I need to ask you to leave."

He stood up, frowned slightly, and made towards the door, still holding his half-forgotten book in his hand.

Draco sat up on his bed, shuffling the pages of an essay, and placing them away on his bedside table. "What's wrong, cousin?"

Maia looked behind her, checking that the door was fully closed. "I think we need to talk."

...

**A/N – Right, I know I said that the last chapter was the last one for the holidays, but, well, I had a few spare minutes... : ) **

**Now there really will be a break until after Christmas!**

**Anyway, I'm strongly considering ending this story after third year, and writing a sequel for years four to seven. I feel that the story is getting too long. And I'll start posting the sequel immediately. After all, I have everything planned until the epilogue! So, firstly, does anyone have any opinions on the splitting of the story? And does anyone have any ideas for a name? I think that 'As Clear As Day' might follow on nicely, don't you? : ) **


	82. Loyalty Asks No Questions

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Eighty Two_ ~ Loyalty Asks No Questions _

Draco tilted his head, "Oh, and what's the matter?"

"The Golden Trio _know_."

...

_Andromeda went back to her husband, and linked her arm through his, "I'll explain in the dining room, darling..."_

_With that, the adults all began to move away. Tonks brought up the rear, looking distinctly disgruntled but not having much choice in the matter. She'd realised now that she was stuck with her mother's crazed family, and she was going to get to leave until she was dismissed. Or she infuriated them so much they threw her out..._

_Caroline turned round to Maia and Draco, holding out a hand to stop them as they automatically followed._

_"No, Maia, Draco, this isn't a meeting for children."_

_Maia bristled, but Draco got there first with a sneer, "You can't stop us. We're the Heirs, we have a right to be there for House Councils."_

_Caroline smiled kindly and shook her head, "Not until you're of age. I know it's frustrating, but you are still too young for such a meeting-"_

_"-But mother, he could tarnish the House reputation! This is important! I must attend, we both must!"_

_"Maia Violetta, what does a daughter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black__not__do to her elders?"_

_"She doesn't interrupt them."_

_"And what__does__she do?"_

_Maia let out a long sigh, "She obeys them."_

_"Then off you go, both of you."_

_And then Caroline left, making her own way to the dining room._

_And the two Heirs scowled at her retreating form._

_Just before Caroline closed the door, Maia and Draco watched as Cassiopeia raised her wand and cast a silencing charm around the room. Then the door clicked shut in their faces. _

_Maia humpfed and sat down on the bottom step, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well that's unreasonable." _

"_You don't say."_

"_What are we going to do?"_

_Draco shrugged. "I don't suppose there's much we can do."_

_Maia raised an eyebrow, "What happened to the cousin who helped me replace all of Aunt Irma's journals with copies of muggle magazines?"_

"_Yes, well, that was Aunt Irma."_

"_And?"_

"_Well, this is father."_

_Maia frowned, "You are oddly obedient sometimes, Draco."_

"_And you aren't? The aspiring Slytherin Princess? With her careful politics? Her select circle of friends? You do everything they want of you."_

"_Yes, well... I suppose." She paused and chewed her bottom lip, "But you act differently when it comes to him. Not like I did with my father."_

"_But Uncle Marius wasn't you Head of House, was he?"_

_She shook her head in silence. _

_There was another pause, before Draco let out an exasperated huff. "You still want to know what they're saying, don't you?"_

_Maia looked up, "Of course, they're talking about our House. About us."_

_Draco nodded, and rolled his eyes. "Dobby!"_

_There was a small 'pop' and a downtrodden House Elf appeared in front of them. His ears drooped as he sunk into a bow. "Yes, Master Draco? What can Dobby be doing for young Master?"_

_Draco looked at the closed doors and took a deep breath, "I want you to lower the silencing charm, so we can hear what they say."_

_Dobby's eyes widened, "Is Master allowing this?"_

"_Has my father told you that it is not allowed?"_

"_No, Master Draco."_

"_Then lower the damn charm." _

_Dobby clicked his fingers, and then vanished with another small 'pop'._

_Draco shook his head and started walking towards the door, while Maia followed with far more eagerness. _

_Carefully, they each pressed an ear against the door._

_..._

"_YOU FILTHY MUDBLOOD LOVING BLOOD TRAITOR!" _

_The two children gasped and jumped back from the door. Each taking a deep breath, they took up their previous positions._

"_-nor raise your voice to, my wife." The man's voice was grave and authoritative._

_Maia rolled her eyes as Aunt Irma sneered at him. He clearly wasn't the type of wizard to care. _

_The adults bickered amongst themselves, until Narcissa called for their attention. The eyes of the two children widened as she spoke. Aunt Irma and Aunt Druella had tried to overthrow Maia as Heir, replacing her with Draco as she lay frozen in Hogwart's Hospital Wing. And from what Aunt Cassiopeia said, she thought Uncle Lucius had been partial to the plan._

_Draco pulled back from the door, "You know I would never do that to you, Maia. Don't you?"_

_Maia nodded, lip quivering, her voice not quite capable of noise in that moment. They had tried to take every from her. _

_They would regret that. One day, she would make them regret that._

_The voices continued. _

_Or Aunt Cassiopeia would make them regret it now. _

_She smirked._

_And they continued to listen._

_..._

_Maia heard her mother sigh, "I wish it were that simple."_

"_What do you mean, Caroline?"_

_There was a pause, and Maia felt her stomach tighten. _

_It was Cassiopeia who finally answered, "Maia isn't Caroline's daughter. She isn't even Marius' daughter."_

_There was silence again, and the Cassiopeia continued in a shaky voice. "She is the daughter of Sirius Black and Marlene McKinnon."_

_..._

_Draco listened in silence, listened as they told how Sirius had married Marlene straight out of Hogwarts. _

_How Marlene's sister had been murdered._

_How they had named their baby after her._

_How the Death Eaters had attacked the McKinnon Clan._

_He heard the click of his father's cane as it rapped on the floor._

_A sign of stress._

_A sign of fear._

_And he heard that Aunt Andromeda remembered it._

_Heard her strangled voice, "You were there, weren't you? You helped. You murdered them. All of them."_

_He heard the silence. The silent confirmation._

"_You'll rot in hell, Malfoy."_

_It was the man again. The grave man. The words spoken so clearly. So calming. Allowing no argument. A statement._

_Draco looked across at Maia, with her eyes tightly closed. Her cheeks wet with tears, still falling from her eyes._

_Draco's stomach lurched. _

_He heard Cassiopeia call them back to the story. _

_He heard how Sirius Black had planned the attack._

_And then he heard how he had killed the muggles, and the Pettigrew man._

_And Annabelle was taken to Caroline and Marius, and became Maia. _

_His sister._

_There was silence, and he could hear the smile in his mother's voice, delighted, as she deduced that Maia was a pureblood._

_Maia, who was still crying. _

_They kept talking._

_He listened._

_Listened how they had hidden Maia._

_Had kept the secret._

_Even the werewolf knew._

_Kept it from all of them._

_And still thought they were keeping it now._

_He broke away from the door. He stood up, walked over to Maia and pulled her away, wrapping her tightly in his arms, and rocking her as she cried. She didn't make a sound, not a single word. Slowly, he guided her upstairs, to her room, to where they were supposed to be._

...

Draco blinked twice, pushing away the memories of that day away. "Oh Merlin."

She walked quickly over to his bed, curling up next to him as he put an arm around her, squeezing her elbow.

"Oh Merlin." He said again.

"How did they find out?"

"I don't know." She sniffed, and he jostled her again.

"None of that. Stiff upper lip, you're a Black, you know."

"Don't I just. A _pureblood_ Black. Aunt Narcissa was _very_ pleased."

His stomach tightened, "She didn't mean it like that."

"Didn't she?"

He didn't answer. They stayed in silence for a few moments, "What did they say?"

"Just that they knew who my real parents were."

"And what did you do?"

"Flat out denied it. Told them they were meddling filth who knew nothing. Swore that I was the proud daughter of Marius and Caroline Black. I even called Hermione a mudblood for good measure. And I _don't_ care that I did. I _don't_. Besides, it's as good as a lie, what they said. It _is_ a lie. It's only true on a technicality. It's not me, it's not who I _am_."

He smirked at the hangings over his bed, "I'm proud of you."

She sighed. "I feel awful."

"I know. You never could fool me. But Granger won't suffer from being taken down a peg or two though."

"It's a horrid word. She didn't deserve it, and I like her. And even if she did need to a knock down, that wasn't the way to do it."

"You just did what you had to do."

Maia nodded against his chest, "I know, but that doesn't make me feel better. But I just can't have them bandying that sort of talk about. And I can't let on to the adults that I know the truth. It's best all round if they think I'm still ignorant. It's safer that way. I don't want to risk _him_ finding out. I don't want him near me."

"Well, we're of one mind on that front, for sure."

Maia couldn't help but laugh for a moment, and she felt Draco's body move as he shrugged. "Is it simply _so_ shocking that I don't want you at the mercy of a mass-murdering lunatic Death Eater?"

"Of course not, dear."

Draco laughed as well, "You did what you had to do. End of story. And if you want my opinion, you're better off without Granger anyway. She's the type of person who'd only drag you down in the end."

"You know deep down that that's not true. And it's just _such_ a horrid word. I just... I just wanted to push them all away. I can't have them messing this up."

"It still frightens me to think that you're changing."

"Maybe you'll change too."

His lips tightened automatically, thin and uncomfortable, "I don't think so."

Maia sighed, "But maybe."

"Maybe." He conceded.

They stayed in silence for a moment, "How do you feel about them? Aunt Cassiopeia? Your mother? Professor Lupin?"

Maia swallowed, "That's a stupid question, Draco. And we've already talked about it."

He nodded, looking back up at the hangings. "We'll get through this Maia. I know we will." He squeezed her shoulder.

"I know we will too."

"I'll help you with those three. You can't count of them taking your hint. They're Gryffindors. They're innately dense, and reckless. They're probably trying to save you as we speak. But I'll make sure they get the message. I won't let them put you in danger."

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

She took his hand in her own, "Thank you."

He sucked in his top lip before speaking again, "Do you remember what we promised each other, that day in your room, after we listened to the Council?"

Maia nodded, "Family comes first."

"And that will _never_ change."

"Never." She agreed, closing her eyes and breathing in the scent of him; the scent of home.

...

Later that night, when everyone else had gone to sleep, Draco sat alone with the hangings pulled around his bed. Slowly, he held he traced the words of the book against, dimly illuminated in the wandlight.

_The Politics of Blood by Edgar Edgeworth_

The book his father had had him memorise in second year.

His father.

He shuddered.

'_You'll rot in hell, Malfoy.'_

...

At breakfast the next morning none of their group commented that neither Maia nor Draco looked well-rested.

And none of them commented when Maia tucked a letter from her mother into her satchel, without opening in first.

They all diligently carried out their charade of normality.

Their friends didn't even ask what had happened.

They didn't need to.

Loyalty asks no questions.

...

Maia read the letter by the fireside that night. At least, she glanced over the words, knowing already what it would say.

_...received a letter_

_... concerned about you_

_...disappointed_

_...expected better_

_...raised you better_

_...your father would be so upset_

_...should listen to Remus_

_...want to talk to you over Christmas_

_...worried about you_

_...please answer_

_...with love from your mother._

Maia's eyes scanned over it once more before she let out a heavy sigh and tossed it into the fire.

She watched the edges as they curled upwards and burned, until the letter glowed with embers and flames, and finally faded away into ash and smoke and nothingness.

...

A few days later, Remus kept her back after class. Draco shot him an open look of disdain; he was the last student to leave the classroom. Maia walked briskly to the desk.

"How can I help you, Professor?"

She watched with narrowed eyes as he ran his hand through his hair and paced the room again.

He needed to get a new nervous habit.

He told her she should answer her mother's letters.

She merely raised an eyebrow, "I was not aware that it was the duty of the Defence Professor to monitor their students' correspondence?"

"I am more than your professor, Maia."

"Then I apologise, I was not aware of this. I assumed I had only ever known you in an educational capacity."

"There is no need to be so difficult, _Miss. Black_."

"My sincerest apologies, _sir_."

"So will you answer your mother?"

"No."

And then she turned and walked out of the room.

...

Again, Maia sat in the armchair by the fire. She poked the last remains of the letter, and watched them as they disintegrated.

The sound of approaching footsteps made her look up, and she watched as a rather battered looking Draco and Blaise sunk into the armchairs nearest to her.

"What happened to you?"

Blaise rubbed the small of his back, "We got detention."

"And you came out of it looking like that?"

Blaise smiled thinly, trying to straighten himself up, "No, we've got detention because of this." His gestured between himself and Draco, indicating their injuries.

Draco kicked off his shoes and leant back in his chair, "Apparently one can't deliver a forceful message these days."

"Draco..."

Blaise rolled his eyes, "Don't be like that, they clearly gave as good as they got."

Maia shook her head, and pulled a book from her back and placed it firmly in front of her face.

"Go and get cleaned up, and at least _try_ and behave like civilised gentlemen."

...

The next night, she watched as another letter burnt.

And another, its corners taking the flame first, burning from the outside in, to it's very core.

And another, the ink making the flames flicker briefly from gold to blue to green.

And another.

And another.

And another.

And another.

And another.

And another.

...

**A/N – Ok, a couple of notes for my readers. Firstly, thank you for all the reviews. I really enjoy reading them, and hearing your comments. Constructive criticism is more than welcome as well. **

**Anyway, I've thought a lot about what you've said about the structure of the story. I've actually decided to split this into a trilogy. I'm going to continue with a night-time theme, reflecting the 'Black' name. It'll put a 'trailer' for the next part at the end of this one. **

**Part One – **_**As Black As Night**_** (books 1-3)**

**Part Two –**_** Bright Star**_** (books 4-5)**

**Part Three – **_**Before The Dawn**_** (books 6-7)**

**This should keep the lengths fairly manageable! How does that sound?**

**Also, happy almost new year! The next update will be posted during the first week of January. **


	83. The Bleak Midwinter

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Eighty Three_ ~ The Bleak Midwinter_

"Maia, are you alright?"

Maia looked up, blinking, from the Arithmancy books she had been hunched over. Next to her was another pile of books; extra reading which she wanted to complete before the holidays. Dark shadows hung under her eyes.

"Of course I am, Justin." She said calmly, before turning back to the exercises in front of her.

He nodded slowly and bent his blonde head back to his own work, but continued to watch her, frowning. He looked across at Ernie and Seamus who were studying with them. Ernie shrugged helplessly.

Seamus reached across and snapped Maia's book shut. She jumped back just in time to avoid getting her fingers caught. Pulling her wand from its holster, she levelled it at Seamus. "What the Salazar was that for, Finnegan?"

He grinned at her lopsidedly, "I think you're neglecting your Muggle Studies in favour of Arthmancy. That's not very fair, is it?"

Maia swallowed. Her last few meetings with Professor Burbage had been rather stilted, given what had happened with Hermione. She had to admire that the woman was still persevering. She hadn't even brought it up. Instead, she had simply given Maia more books to read. Maia was becoming particularly fond of Hardy.

"And when did you become so well-informed regarding my study habits?"

"'Tis a gift, Black."

She frowned, rolled her eyes, and went back to open her book, only to find it snatched from under her. Justin was grinning this time. "Come on Maia, I agree with Seamus."

"It's hard not to, I'm just that good."

Maia watched as the other three started to pack their books, parchment and quills away.

Ernie slung his satchel over his shoulder and puffed out his chest, "So, chaps, where are we going?"

"Term's almost over, so I'd suggest we go an' harass some Slytherins before we're deprived of the opportunity for all of Christmas." Said Seamus, "But as we've got our very own Slytherin here t' torment, I reckon we should just concentrate on her."

Maia looked briefly heavenwards, and tried to go back to her sums.

"What shall we do?"

Seamus and Justin shared a glance, before Seamus grinned. "We could introduce these two to football?"

Maia sat up, leant back, and started to gather her things together.

"Are you coming?"

"Of course not, I'm going to the Common Room."

"Why? Oh Maia, we're just trying to be nice. You need cheering up, you've been sulking for days and it isn't healthy." Said Ernie.

She heaved her heavy bag onto her shoulder, "_Why_? If none of you can work out why, you're all stupider than I ever imagined."

...

Halfway back to the Common Room, she heard feet clattering on the stone floor behind her. She turned to find Seamus running to catch up with her, "Tha' really was unnecessary, Black."

"Do I look like I care?"

His lips tightened, "No."

"Well then."

"Well, I reckon y' must, at least a bit."

"I'm not wasting my time _playing_ when I could be doing something productive and respectable."

"Y' shouldn't treat your friends like that. Ernie's even your cousin. And they both have a right t' be cross wi' you right now, after what you called Hermione."

"I call a broom a broom."

"That's a damn cold thing to say, Black."

"So they tell me."

He pushed a hand through his dark hair, "You hurt her feelings."

"She seems to be managing."

"How would y' know, when y' haven't even spoken to her?"

Maia shrugged and Seamus shook his head, starting to walk away. "Fine, have it your way. No one'll ever say we didn' try."

...

Remus sat up in his office, reading through another of Caroline's increasingly frantic letters. It seemed that Maia still refused to answer her.

He wished he knew what was going on with that girl. She would turn thirteen soon though, so perhaps sulking and rebellion were only to be expected. His gut, however, told him that something more was going on.

He could understand her arguing with Harry and Ron, but he was truly shocked that she would call Hermione a mudblood. He had been under the impression that they were friends. And he had thought - had at least hoped - that she was growing out of her rather warped and convoluted brand of blood-purism. After all, she had been the one to initiate contact with him, a werewolf.

Had he been wrong?

Or, perhaps she had started, and had become scared, or had quarrelled with her Slytherin friends, and had now snapped back into it, worse than ever before.

Closing his eyes, he held his wand in front of his empty tumbler, and filled it with a healthy portion of whiskey. He gulped it down in two breaths, well-practised as he was. He twisted the glass round in his hand, his thoughts drifting back to Tonks.

The girl who kept smiling.

He shook his head and filled the glass again, before looking at it sorrowfully and tipping the contents away into his wilting potted plant. He wasn't going to sit here and get drunk on his misery.

She'd tried, he'd wanted to try, and it wasn't going to work.

It couldn't work.

He was old, and very definitely broken. She was young and whole and had her future in front of her. If anything, he suspected she looked at him and saw a lost cause, an aimless man, and wanted to fix him. And he wasn't going to be anybody's _pet_ project.

Besides, he was well beyond fixing.

He just hoped that Maia wasn't.

...

A thin dog shivered on the mountainside as he crouched down amid the snow and watched the dark outline of the castle in the distance.

Somewhere in there was his daughter.

And somehow, he would get her back.

He would kill the rat.

And save Annie.

Kill the rat.

Save Annie.

Kill the rat.

Save Annie.

His thoughts came in time with his shudders.

...

Draco sat on the armchair opposite Maia, watching her as she tossed another letter into the fire. She hadn't even opened this one.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm sick of everyone asking me that."

"Well, at least I know what I'm talking about, I'm not just an interfering Hufflepuff."

"Or Gryffindor."

Draco frowned, "Did they not take the hint?"

Maia smiled tightly, "No, I meant Finnegan."

"Finnegan? What's he got to do with anything?"

Maia shrugged, "How on earth should I know. He took it upon himself to give me a lecture on morality."

"Well, I trust you told him what he could do with it?"

"What sort of Black and Slytherin do you think I am?"

Draco smirked, "My apologies, sister."

She sat back in the armchair, "I just hate this waiting. I'm just waiting for Yule, to see what happens."

"We have a plan."

"I know."

"And we'll follow it."

"I know."

"And you did what you had to do."

"I know."

"And I know you're upset with what you said, but you can't let guilt consume you."

"I know that as well."

"I'm just saying..."

"I know."

Draco smiled and went over to stoke the fire, "Just read the cards or something. You know that always calms you down."

"Do you want me to read for myself or for you?"

Draco put the iron poker to one side, "Just do both."

She nodded and pulled out the cards. "I'll draw my own first then."

Slowly, she shuffled the cards, cutting and splitting the pack as she went. Gradually, she ended up with three cards laying face down on the table. She turned each one over in turn.

_Upright Lovers_

_Reversed Justice_

_The World Upright_

Draco leant across to get a better look, "So, what do they say?"

Maia sighed, and pushed the first card towards him. "The lovers are upright. Relationships will be tested, and decisions will be made with the heart, not the head. Justice is upside down. There's suffering, and inequality. Something isn't right. And the world is upright, something is going to come to an end. A cycle will be complete."

Draco nodded, "Does that frighten you?"

"Nothing frightens me. I'm a Black."

"Good. Now do mine."

Maia gathered up the cards and shuffled them again. Every so often she would pause, cut the pack, and hold both out to Draco. Each time, he would choose a card from the top of one of the halves of the pack, and place it down on the table in front of them. When three cards lay in a row, he turned the first one over slowly.

"Strength reversed." She said, looking at Draco, not the card. "Power is being abused."

He turned the next card over. "The Tower reversed. Imprisonment, possibly physical, but probably not, within circumstances which seem unalterable."

She bit her lip as the last card was turned. "The Upright Fool. You have an important decision to make."

Draco snorted, "I've already made all the important decisions in my life. Are you sure your Sight isn't going off?"

Maia shrugged, "Nobody Sees clearly, or at least, no true Seer does. I can only tell you want the cards say, and that the cards don't lie."

Draco leant back in his chair, and picked up the book he'd discarded on the table.

Maia raised an eyebrow at the cover, "You're reading Edgeworth again? I've never come across a duller man, and Cassiopeia once had Minister Crouch over for dinner."

"Father wills it."

"Have fun then."

...

The train jostled the assembled third years on their way home for Yule. Maia gave Parkinson a cold look as she fell against her, but made no comment. She had bigger grindylows to fry, and more than that, she'd decided to make sure that Parkinson _burnt_.

Ernie and Justin staggered into the compartment as the train lurched.

"Ergh, Pansy, can you smell something?" said Milicent, pinching her nose and turning her face away.

"I think someone's wearing _Eau de Mudblood_." She answered, looking directly at Maia, "Wouldn't you say, Maia?"

Maia caught Justin's eye to see that his cheeks were distinctly flushed, while Ernie's hands were balled into fists. His lips were pressed tightly together, as though he wanted to burst out in anger, but was too cross to make a single sound.

"I couldn't say, Pansy. The women of my House all buy their scent from Paris, perhaps you ought to purchase yours from somewhere more upmarket? _Eau de Mudblood_ does sound rather cheap, if that's the sort of thing you're choosing from."

Draco rolled his eyes and deliberately turned towards Blaise, engaging him in an elaborate discussion about Quidditch funding.

"We didn't want to stay long, Maia, it's rather crowded in here." Said Ernie stiffly, "I just wanted to check with you that you know when to expect us for Yule."

Maia smiled, "In time for a formal dinner, on the 22nd December. I trust you'll both have something suitable to wear."

Justin grinned, "Oh, don't worry, my mother is thrilled to discover a whole new _world_ of fashion. My father is rather less thrilled. It's his credit card, after all."

"Credit card?" said Ernie.

"The plastic thing muggles use to make their purchases," said Maia, "Professor Burbage mentioned them last week."

Ernie nodded, looking confused. Justin, on the other hand, looked pleasantly surprised.

"Very well, give my regards to your mother if we don't see her at the station." Said Ernie.

"And mine." Added Justin, before both boys left with a bow.

As they closed the compartment door behind them, Pansy let out a gasp. "Oh Merlin! Millicent, be a dear and open the window, the stench might make me pass out."

Tracey looked up from her magazine, her lips curled. "Give it a rest, Parkinson, surely _you're_ used to the smell."

Maia and Daphne sniggered, and both Millicent and Pansy looked distinctly uncomfortable.

...

As the train slowly pulled into the platform, Vincent and Gregory hauled Maia's suitcase down from the rack, and passed it down onto the platform. Maia hung back quickly to say goodbye to her friends, although she was sure to see at least Draco and Tracey over the holidays. Draco, for obvious reasons, and Tracey because they were near neighbours. Daphne might visit, but Blaise was going to visit some very extended family in Naples.

Eventually, she stepped down onto the busy platform and began to walk towards her mother and Aunt Cassiopeia.

"Hello."

...


	84. If I Were A Wise Man

**I do not own Harry Potter**

**Trigger Warning: Parentage Issues/Love/Deceit/Loss. **

**Please, if you think it will upset you, you can easily skip this chapter and pick the plot up in Chapter 85. I've tried to deal with everything sensitively, but I know that this is a difficult issue with Maia confronting Caroline about her parentage. **

**In light of this, and perhaps because I worry too much, I have changed the rating to M. **

Chapter Eighty Four_ ~ If I Were A Wise Man_

As the green flames of the fire died away, Caroline, Cassiopeia and Maia were left standing in the drawing room in silence. Twinky and Trixie had left tea and biscuits on the sideboard, although none of them made any move towards them.

Caroline moved over to one of the low armchairs, smoothing her tweed skirt as she sat down. "Cassiopeia, perhaps you could give Maia and I some privacy?"

Maia raised an eyebrow and primly sat herself down on the opposite chair. "Perhaps _I _would prefer it if she stayed."

"I should like to speak to you alone."

"Perhaps I don't want to speak _to you_ at all."

"Maia Black, you are my daughter and you will behave in a manner befitting your status and your upbringing."

"Are we really going to keep up that charade?"

The air hung thickly in the room. Slowly, Cassiopeia walked over to the chair closest to the fireplace and sat down. She closed her eyes for a moment.

"How."

It wasn't even a question.

"You really shouldn't underestimate Draco and I. You raised us, after all."

A ghost of a smile passed over her face, "No, I suppose I shouldn't."

Caroline sucked both her lips into her mouth, chewing them together to try and hold back the tears already running down her cheeks. Her age-lined hands shook. "You know?"

"Yes, I know."

Caroline grasped her hands together tightly, "Maia, I am sorry. I am so, so sorry." She paused, her voice catching, "I never wanted you to find out... not like that. I know... I know this must have been difficult for you. I know that. I never wanted you to find out except from your father and I..." her voice caught in her throat, "I mean, from me. I was... I was just trying to protect you. You _must_ understand that."

Maia crossed her ankles tightly, so much so that it hurt, "I know."

Cassiopeia turned back around, "You still haven't told us how."

"Draco ordered Dobby to lower the silencing charm around the room."

She nodded slowly, "That makes sense."

Caroline chocked back a sob, "You've known that long? Why didn't you come to me? Maia... I love you. That hasn't changed. You must know that hasn't changed. If you want... if you want to find out about Marlene, I'll help you... Of course I will. But please, please don't doubt that I love you. Please don't pull away from me like this."

Maia clasped her hands forcefully. Her own tears filled her eyes, gathering on her lashes, but she blinked rapidly to hold them back. "I might as well ask the same things of you."

Cassiopeia stood up and stood before the fireplace, holding onto the mantelpiece. She remained silent. Neither of them commented on her shaking shoulders. When she was finished, she sat back in her seat, her face as impassive as ever.

Caroline shook her head, "Is this about the letters? Maia, I was hurt that you would treat a friend like that, but you should never doubt that I love you. It's because I love you that I was cross. I want the best for you. I want you to grow up to be the best that you can be. Hatred and cruelty are not who you _are_. And I should like to think that I have raised you too well to be so cruel to your friends, or so disobedient and undutiful to your elders."

Maia felt her anger rise from her stomach, but swallowed it down. While her stomach burnt, her heart felt heavy in her chest, like a dead weight, and she said sadly, "That's not what I meant. It's not about what you wrote in your letters."

"Then tell me, tell me what you meant."

She wanted to stand and rage, but after bottling it up for so long, she no longer had the energy. Her shoulders slumped as she answered, "You didn't _tell_ me. How could you doubt me like that? How could you doubt _me_ as a daughter? How could you not trust me with your plans? How could you not trust me to go along with them? Did you doubt my loyalty? My ability?"

She turned to Cassiopeia, "As a loyal member of _our_ House? I've done everything... everything to be a good daughter to this House. I've worked hard, I've got good grades, I've made good friendships, I dress how you want me to, I don't contradict your politics, I've done everything... But you didn't trust me to tell me about this."

She pulled her feet up onto the sofa and held herself tightly, shaking, "I can't believe you would doubt my _loyalty_...It's not... it's not just about love. I _never_ thought that my loyalty might come into question. Never. I owe you everything. I should hope that I am never disloyal. I cannot imagine any world in which I am not loyal to both of you, to the House of Black."

Caroline stood up quickly, staggering slightly on her aging feet, and moved across the room, pulling Maia fiercely into her arms. "Darling, it _is_ about love. I never doubted your loyalty; I love you more than anything. I would do anything to protect you, to keep anything from ever happening to you. You could abandon the House of Black tomorrow for all I care. You don't owe me anything. I'd give you everything freely. I just want you to be safe and happy. And I know you're a good daughter. I know you are, and you are the most precious thing in the world to me. You don't even have to _try_. I just couldn't bear to tell you those things. It wasn't us doubting your loyalty, but a wish to protect you. You should have understood that."

Maia nodded, clinging to Caroline's arms. "I know... I just." She paused, "It hurt." She chocked, "It just hurt. It hurt to hear all of those things..." She stopped again and shook her head fiercely, "But you are my mother, and there is no man alive who could ever replace father. No one... I wish he was here. I miss him and I'm scared." Her tears soaked Caroline's cardigan, "I want dad back."

Caroline gripped her hair, "I know, darling. I know. I want him back too."

Cassiopeia said nothing. She stared at the opposing wall. Finally, she swallowed. "I would never doubt your loyalty, Maia Violetta, but I also hope that you would never doubt mine. We did not act against you, or distrust you, we merely sought to protect you. I hope you will recognise that from now on, and adjust your behaviour accordingly. Your behaviour towards you mother and I these past weeks has not been acceptable. Do you understand that?"

Maia nodded against her mother's arms, "Of course, Aunt Cassiopeia."

"Good. We must all work together in this. Our House cannot be allowed to fall into disunity."

"And the Malfoys, they are with us... aren't they? Draco knows everything. He is worried too. He's worried that Sirius Black will find the truth out."

Cassiopeia nodded carefully back at the wall, "He's his mother's son. But neither of you shall worry. Sirius Black will have to step over my cold, dead body to get near to my children. And there is plenty of life left in me yet."

Maia couldn't help but smile, "Will you teach me to duel?"

She nodded. "We can build on the curses I taught you before."

"Thank you, Aunt Cassiopeia."

"And can we talk, please? About your plans, and the things I heard?"

"We shall, before you go back to school. But not yet. I should like to see an improvement in your behaviour first."

Maia swallowed, but remembered her place. "I am sorry."

"I know, and for what it's worth, I have many of my own regrets. And please bear in mind that when I talk to you, I shall want full disclosure on any plans that you and Draco 'cooked up', to use the common phrase, between yourselves."

She smiled slightly, "Who said we made plans?"

"Did I not instruct you well enough, all those years ago?"

Maia nodded, "Of course I shall inform you of all of them, Aunt Cassiopeia."

"Good. Well, if you'll excuse me, I've witnessed more emotion than I care to today."

She swept from the room, her long black skirt swishing out behind her.

Caroline stood back up and wiped the tears from her face, patting her hair and clothes back into place. She sat down on the nearest chair to Maia. She took a deep breath, "What about your mother?"

"She's sitting in front of me."

Caroline tried not to smile, "I meant Marlene. You can't pretend she doesn't exist."

"I'm sure she was a lovely woman, and I'm very sorry that she died, and I'm sorry that she probably suffered, but she's not the woman who raised me and I'm not going to make her into some sort of idol. You are quite enough for me."

"I am very proud of you, that you can see both Marlene and I in that light. You should find out more about your heritage though. Nothing could stop you being my daughter, but you are also Marlene's daughter, and you have a whole branch of your family to explore. The McKinnons should be remembered, and Marlene _was_ and _is_ your mother. She loved you very, very much. She was a good, kind and brave woman. You should be proud of her as well, Maia. I should be proud of you, if you came to respect and love her as well. Your father and I were blessed to have you come into our lives, and we loved Marlene for bringing you into the world. And while I could not imagine my life without you, I do wish that she could have lived as well. I wish that all the McKinnons could have lived. War is a terrible, terrible thing..." Her voice trailed away.

Maia nodded, busy making herself respectable again.

Caroline looked down at her daughter, burying again the memories of her own war, "I know that you have been worried about House politics and loyalty, but to be blunt, I care only for you right now. So would you care to tell me why you refused to answer my letters, and why you were so terribly rude to Remus?"

She chewed her lip and looked away, "I was ashamed."

"Of your behaviour towards your friend?"

Maia nodded slowly.

"Maia, why would you be so cruel? You know better than that. You've experienced it yourself."

She held her hands together, "It was part of a plan... A rather shamefully rushed and ill-thought out plan." She took a deep breath, "Somehow, and I don't know how, Hermione, Potter and Weasley found out the truth about my parents."

Caroline's hand flew to her throat, "Is there any chance it's spread? We should call Cassiopeia."

Maia shook her head, "I don't know for sure. They approached me on the street, and told me that they thought I was in danger. They're all stupid Gryffindors. They didn't mean... It's hard to admit, but I know they didn't mean any malice towards me. But I couldn't just have them spouting it off left, right and centre, could I? So I thought that if I could push them away, make them cross, they would _stop_ trying to help me, and the secret would stay safe."

Caroline nodded, "That was foolish. Have you apologised to Hermione?"

"I've been avoiding her."

"Perhaps you should explain, and tell her the whole truth."

Maia looked up sharply, "I couldn't mother! That would be more dangerous!"

She shook her head, "Sometimes, having half the truth is more dangerous than having all of it. Bring her into your confidence and she might just forgive you. At the very least, it will stop them digging for more information. Sirius Black is a violent, unbalanced and dangerous man. No child should be involved in this."

"But if I tell her, she'll hate me more. Because I did it deliberately. I _tried_ to hurt her, to push her away. I didn't just lash out in anger, although I suppose that was part of it."

"Maia, you did a horrible thing, and I love you, but I was very disappointed in you, as was Remus. You should ask her forgiveness, and hope she obliges."

"Shall I write to her?"

Caroline shook her head, "No, Maia, you shouldn't leave a paper trail with this information."

She sighed, "I know, but I do want to apologise."

Caroline nodded, "Very well, write to her, apologise, and invite her to visit. We're already having Ernst and Master Finch-Fletchley stay. Have her come a few days earlier, if she accepts, and then you can explain it to her within the safety of the wards."

Maia nodded, "Thank you mother."

"You're welcome. I know you're a good girl at heart. And I'm going to remind you that the attitude you displayed when we arrived is not ladylike, and is not acceptable under any circumstances. Cassiopeia and I have taught you how to put people in your place, and it was in a manner far more decorous, subtle and belittling than that display. _That_ display was childish. Moreover, you know better than to openly disrespect your elders, do you not?"

"I'm sorry mother."

"Well, we shall talk about it more in the future. I am proud of you now though. I thought that you would argue back, but you have explained yourself. And I meant what I said, I am sorry that you found out like that."

Maia opened her mouth, then closed it again. She took a steadying breath, "I almost couldn't bear it... Aunt Narcissa, I do love her, I do, but to hear... To hear how happy she was that I was a pureblood. It made me think that she used to care that I was 'only' a halfblood. And Aunt Irma and Aunt Druella... and then, and then Uncle Lucius..."

"You should not have heard all of those things, not all in one go, and not like that." Caroline shook her head and passed her hand over her eyes, "Would you like to talk about it?"

Maia shook her head, "No. At least not now."

"It would help."

Maia shook her head, "No, I can't. But when I do... Can I talk to you? You know... You know what it's like, I think."

"Of course."

"Thank you."

"Good girl, now go and dress for dinner."

Maia stood and made towards the door. At the last moment, she turned back round. "I love you."

"I love you too, darling."

...

**I am incredibly nervous about posting this chapter, and have been holding it back for a number of weeks. I've tried to keep everyone in character, and deal with the issues sensitively. I also hope that this clears up some questions that have been asked, although this is obviously not the end of this storyline. Also, just for reference, Maia's first mention of her guilt/regret for what she called Hermione are found in Ch 81, and are referred to from then on a number of times. **

**Also, I estimate that there are another ten chapters before I conclude part one of this story. I shall post a 'trailer' onto the end of this section, with the name of the next instalment. It may be easiest if you add me to author alert, if you decide that you want to read the next part though, as you'll then know when I start updating the new story. **


	85. Without You To Hold

**I do not own Harry Potter**

**A/N – Thank you for the reviews from the last chapter. I'm sorry you had to be so patient, waiting for me to update while I dithered all that time! Normal service will now resume, but here's another new chapter as a thank you.**

Chapter Eighty Five_ ~ Without You To Hold_

"Do you mind if I come in, darling?"

Maia placed her bookmark between the pages of the heavy potions volume and put it to one side. "Of course."

Caroline entered and sat down on the edge of her bed, smiling at the book. "You are doing very well in potions, I hope that you are not working yourself too hard."

"I'm not. I enjoy it."

Caroline nodded and smoothed her skirts, "I wanted to talk to you about earlier today."

Maia picked up her thick braid and moved it to the other side of her neck, not quite able to meet her mother's eye. "I thought as much."

"Yes... Well, it's important."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"I'm not hear for more apologies, darling." She said, patting Maia's hand, "I think we've both had enough of that." She paused and smiled again, "I just wanted to check that you really were alright."

"I am."

"Good. That's all I want, for you to be happy."

Maia swallowed, unsure of herself, and pulled her duvet up to her neck, "I didn't like pretending not to know, when Cousin Nymphadora interviewed me, and when I spoke to you before I went to Hogwarts. I couldn't tell you... I couldn't tell you that I knew but I wanted you to know that I still loved you, and that I always would. You sounded... You sounded so very upset during the Council."

Caroline squeezed her daughter's hand, "I was, but Maia, you could have told me. You can always tell me anything."

"I wasn't supposed to know, and your plan made sense. I knew that it was to keep me safe. Draco and I talked it through, and we liked your plan, even if it meant that we had to pretend ignorance."

Caroline blinked rapidly, "Yes... and in retrospect especially, what you did was very sweet. But I don't want you to hide things again. It hurt you. I know that you're like Cassiopeia in that way, you never want to show weakness, but I'm not someone you should fear to show weakness too. Love in unconditional, you know that."

Maia nodded slowly, "It did hurt. And I wanted to talk to dad..." she sniffed, "But Remus took me to his grave and well, that helped. I told him everything. And, well, I kept up the charade. It was fine, even at school when it got hard, Draco and I had each other and we would talk it through and it would be alright, but then Hermione and her friends found out, and they confronted me, and I snapped, and then you and Remus were cross and I felt so, so awful, but I didn't know how to say it. And Draco said we should wait until Yule, because it wasn't safe to talk at Hogwarts when Sirius Black was supposed to be nearby... He has been so very, very worried, mother... And then you wanted to talk and I just didn't know what to do anymore."

She hung her head and Caroline stroked her hair softly, "In spite of everything, I am so very pleased that you and Draco are so close, and care so much for each other."

Maia nodded, "Mum..."

"Yes?"

"It's nothing."

Caroline raised her eyebrow in an uncanny impression of Aunt Cassiopeia, "Tell me." she said.

Maia laughed but her expression quickly sobered. "It's just... you said that love is unconditional?"

Caroline nodded slowly.

"Uncle Lucius wasn't under the Imperius Curse, was he?"

_You'll rot in hell, Malfoy_

Caroline took a deep breath and held it for a moment, before sighing and squeezing Maia's hand tightly, "No, darling, I don't think he was."

"Did he...?"

"He says he can't recall."

There was silence.

"What does... What does this mean?" Her voice small, Maia stared directly at her mother.

"Lucius would make a dangerous enemy right now, when we need to appear strong in the face of Sirius."

"I understand."

"I almost wish you didn't."

"It's alright, mother, I'm not sure that I really do understand it. But I know we can't take any risks with Black on the loose."

"You know I'll never let anything happen to you. I won't let them hurt you, either of them."

"You're a muggle."

"You say that like I'm useless." She said, smiling lightly.

"I mean, that I should protect you."

"Never underestimate a muggle, Maia, or anyone for that matter. You wouldn't like to be taken by surprise now, would you?" With that, she leant down and kissed her cheek, "Now get some rest, and you can write to Hermione in the morning."

Caroline blew out the candle beside Maia's bed and retreated from the room, closing her door quietly as she left.

...

Hermione Granger did not come for Yule that year.

The first morning of the holidays, Maia had composed a letter. She had, for the first time in a long time, abandoned correspondence etiquette. She wrote, frankly, that she was sorry. That she was very, very sorry. That she had lashed out in haste and anger, and that she would like Hermione to visit for a few days over Yule, so that she might apologise in person.

The reply was not addressed to Maia, but to Caroline, and came not from Hermione, but her parents.

And their response was succinct.

While they had nothing against Caroline, they had no intention of allowing their daughter to visit a home in which she was not truly welcome, and would be made to feel unequal and uncomfortable. This was not the first time that Maia and Hermione had fought, and they had heard the details of Aunt Cassiopeia's letter back in Hermione's first year of Hogwarts. They could not, in good conscience, allow their daughter to visit.

It was a bitter blow. Caroline had never had an invitation rejected, at least not in such a manner, in all of her life. And it hurt all the more, because were their positions reversed, she would have taken the same course of action as the Grangers.

Maia felt all the worse, as the letter drove home to seriousness and wrongness of her actions even further. She wrote another letter to Hermione, at least asking that she might be able to talk to her once they returned to Hogwarts. Either her parents relented, or Hermione did not show them the letter this time, because she replied in the affirmative.

It would be a long holiday.

The guilt – and the need for confession and absolution – sat in Maia's belly for the rest of the holiday. She did not wallow, or allow it to distract her, but she could feel it sitting there, cold and heavy, for every hour of every day.

Still, she spent the next few days alternating between her homework, and her newly arranged duelling classes with her Aunt Cassiopeia. In a few days, Ernie and Justin would arrive and they would all spend Yule together, culminating in a gathering of all their respective friends and families on New Year's Eve.

It was something of a snub to the Macmillans – who hosted a large party every year, and who had lost a significant number of guests – but Caroline and Cassiopeia justified it on the grounds that it was important that the Blacks didn't look as if they were hiding themselves away.

And so, at precisely 6.55 pm on the 22nd December, Maia found herself dressed in her second-best dress robes which fell all the way to the floor and with her hair piled up on her head – just like a grown-up society witch – waiting in line with her mother, aunt and their two house elves before the fireplace to greet their guests. Maia fought back a grin – most inappropriate – as the flames turned green and Ernie stepped out of the flames. He was also dressed in his second-best dinner robes, and brushed them off smartly, before stepping out of the way for Justin to follow him.

A moment later, Justin also appeared from the fireplace. Although he looked slightly more bewildered at the experience than Ernie, he quickly recovered himself and bowed smartly to each of the three ladies in turn.

"Please accept my thanks for having me stay this Yule. I am very much obliged at your hospitality."

Caroline smiled at the sight of this young man, who looked very much as his grandfather had done at his age. "The pleasure is all ours, Master Finch-Fletchley."

Justin smiled back, "You are too kind, Mrs. Black. And my grandfather specifically requested that I convey his regards to you."

Cassiopeia arched her neck, watching the young man closely. She was inclined to be pleased with him. His manners, behaviour and dress were impeccable. His looks were aristocratic, if still slightly rounded and plump with boyishness. Still, that was something he would no doubt grow out of. She resolved to watch him closely. If he appeared to have any sort of aptitude, she _might_ try and promote him in their circle. It would please Caroline, no doubt, and Cassiopeia was inclined to think that there was a universal element to good-breeding that had previously been overlooked.

A small cough brought attention to the two house elves. Trixie stepped forwards first and bowed to each of the new-comers in turn, "We is most happy to be having two of Miss. Maia's very handsome friends visiting us for the Yule celebrations."

Caroline's heart melted at the way both boys blushed furiously.

"We is hoping that we is having cooked a lovely dinner for all of you." She continued, "And so Twinky and I is now respectfully asking that you continue to the dining room, where we is serving dinner. And we is informing you that if there is anything you should be wanting during your stay, that you is only having to call us and we shall be being most happy to serve."

And with that, the two elves vanished with a small 'pop'.

...

Dinner had come off spectacularly well. Justin had been perfectly at ease, already well-versed in polite small talk. Cassiopeia had remained deliberately silent, occasionally questioning on his familiarity with the wizarding world, and had managed to go the whole evening without saying anything out of turn. Even when Justin admitted that he was not learning Gobbledegook.

She merely recommended it _most strongly_, and the poor boy found himself agreeing to take on Maia's first textbooks on the subject.

...

The next day, the children found themselves skating on the lake. Of course, the lake had not naturally frozen over, but Cassiopeia had not needed a great deal of persuading to do it by magic. It was Yule, after all, and it was a socially acceptable winter past time for young witches and wizards of standing.

Maia sped along the ice, gathering pace, until she hurtled towards the long grass and fell down in a heap on the soft bank. She threw back her head and laughed. "I haven't had so much fun in years!" she cried. In truth, she had not laughed so hard since her father had died.

Ernie and Justin came to rest alongside her.

"It's a pleasure to see you so happy, Maia." Said Justin.

Ernie nodded, "I was worried about you towards the end of term."

Maia shrugged, "Well, term has finished now."

Justin started pulling pieces of grass out of the earth, "Have you spoken to Hermione?"

Ernie made a slashing motion with his throat, but Maia waved him down. "I've written to her to apologise. She says we can talk properly when we get back to school."

"You know... you know that was a beastly thing you said to her." said Justin. He stared at the ground, his cheeks reddening.

"I know. I was cross at them, but that's no excuse. I know better than to lose my temper like that."

Justin nodded, "I know that, it's just... I know how it feels."

Ernie looked away, "Come on, old boy. The world is full of fools, but we all know better, and that's what matters."

"Is it?" said Maia, looking up and surprising herself with her words.

Justin and Ernie both looked at her and she blushed, "It's just... I've been talking to Professor Burbage a lot this year and I'm starting to think that maybe, maybe we shouldn't just shrug off things like this. Maybe something has to change."

"How on earth would one go about doing that?"

"I don't know. I suppose it's very silly and idealistic."

Justin smiled and hooked her arm in his, pulling her back to her feet, "Perhaps, but there's nothing wrong with it." And with that, they took off skating again, with Ernie soon following them from behind.

...

When Yule Eve finally came, Caroline sat by the window, watching as the group of children marched out into the woodland on their hunt for the Yule Log.

The house was full of people, now that the Malfoys had joined them, and even Tracey Davies and Daphne Greengrass were going to be spending the morning with them. She imagined for a moment that Marius was standing next to her, his hand resting on hers, as they watched their daughter laughing with her friends.

The days had got easier, and she was happy and content, but there was still a nagging emptiness. It was as if, if someone were to take a picture of her in that moment, she could smile at the camera, but the image developed would be missing something more, something _vital_. There was always an empty space at her side.

But she had had a long and happy life with a good man, and she could not complain that it had ended. She had watched him go to sleep, quietly and peacefully, and knew that there were many who did not have that luxury.

And she had a beautiful daughter, who would grow up to make him proud.

...

The large group of children stomped through the woods, singing at the top of their voices and laughing as they stumbled in the frost and slipped on the ice.

"_Oh rest ye merry Hippogriffs, _

_let nothing you dismay,_

_For Merlin our good saviour, _

_slew Morganna Le Faye_

_to save us all from... la, la, la...la, la..._

_O tidings of comfort and joy..."_

Daphne's voice trailed away, "I can't remember how it ends."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Well, we were all following you."

Ernie shrugged, "We can always start up another? How about the 'In the Bleak Mid-Yuletide'?"

"Oh, but that song's so dreary." Said Tracey, "How about, 'Hark the Herald Auguries Cry?'"

"Yes, because auguries are just _so_ cheerful."

Suddenly, Justin let out a laugh and struck up a tune,

"_to save us all from Satan's power,_

_When we were gone astray,_

_O tidings of comfort and joy,_

_Comfort and joy,_

_O tiding of comfort and joy."_

Draco frowned, while Ernie looked confused and Maia looked as if she were trying to remember something from long ago. Tracey simply laughed and sang along with the new words,

"_In Bethlehem, in Israel,_

_This blessed babe was born..."_

Draco's nostrils flared, "Those aren't the right words."

Justin stopped, "They're the muggle words. I sing that song in Church every year."

Tracey nodded, "I've sung them there too with my muggle grandparents."

"But we aren't muggles, we don't sing those things."

Ernie paused from helping Daphne over a log, "Oh don't be such a spoil-sport, Draco. You can't be so surprised that there's an overlap. We're all British, after all."

Draco ran a hand through his hair, "I just don't think it's appropriate behaviour."

"Nobody's here to tell us off." Said Maia, linking her arm through his, "And consider it a lesson in cultural studies. Although I _would _prefer to sing words that I know." She paused, "Though I think I've heard them before. Mother must have taken me when I was little, before I started going to study with all of you at Aunt Cassiopeia's."

"I'd forgotten there was ever a time when you _didn't_ study with us." Said Draco shortly.

Daphne stopped and tried to scrape some mud off her dragon-skin boots, "Those days were fun, weren't they?" she smiled, "Do you remember the time we switched all of Aunt Irma's magazines for muggle ones?"

Maia coughed, "Actually, I think you'll find that that was Draco and I. You and Ernie were too scared."

She shrugged, "Well, we helped when you slipped hair-dye potion into her shampoo."

Ernie laughed, "Oh, and don't forget when we switched all the books around on the shelves in the school room."

"We should have done the whole library." Said Draco.

Daphne shuddered, "There was no way you were ever going to talk us into that. Aunt Cassiopeia really would have killed us that time."

Ernie rubbed his hands together, "I reckon we could pull it off."

Draco shook her head, "Sorry, I have far greater respect for books these days. And Aunt Cassiopeia's hexing abilities..."

Tracey shook her head, "I thought you were all meant to be prim and proper?"

"We were... when they were looking." Said Ernie

Daphne shrugged, "We were most of the time anyway, we just wanted to have a bit of fun now and again before we got to Hogwarts."

Justin sighed, "We used to get up to larks like that in preparatory school all the time. I miss the chaps sometimes."

"Don't you keep in touch?"

"We did during first year, but it's hard... They know there's something _off_ about it. They know that I'm in school in Scotland, but when I won't tell them which, they think it's odd. I mean, one's Alma Mater is important to our sort of people. Maia and Tracey will understand."

Tracey simply shrugged, but Maia nodded. "I know, I remember father telling me about his school days." She stopped herself and looked around, "Come on, we'll never find a Yule Log at this rate."

And with that, the oddly-matched group marched onwards.

...

That evening, and Maia found herself sitting in her long nightdress and dressing gown by her window, long after she should have been in bed.

Tomorrow was her first Yule without her father, or at least, the first Yule where she would be conscious.

She was a disappointment to him. She has tried to be a good daughter to him, but she had failed. She had muddled around, and lost her way. Perhaps she was trying to be too many things? Or perhaps, she just didn't know what she was supposed to be anymore at all?

She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, looking up at the stars. They seemed to taunt her; the Dog Star shining brighter than she had ever seen it before. Shaking her head, she leant back against the wall and closed her eyes.

If she couldn't count sheep, and she couldn't count stars, she would count her memories until she went to sleep...

_Her earliest memory – her mother, Caroline, holding her as she cried. She couldn't remember why._

_Changing her mother's hair colour._

_Playing with Trixie. _

_Her father reading to her._

_Her second birthday._

_Riding her first toy broom._

_Seeing her first goblin._

_Running away in Diagon Alley..._

...


	86. A Plague Upon Their House

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Eighty Six _~ A Plague Upon Their House_

_They were everywhere, crawling all over her. Their tails winding around the curves of her skin, and into the locks of her hair. Their feet scratched lightly, but horribly, disconcertingly, disgusting, all over her: her neck, her face, her arms, her legs, in between the grooves of her fingers. _

_All over her._

_No escape._

_And the disgust. _

_She felt sick. She could feel it in her throat. The need to be sick. _

_And the need to get them off of her._

_She trashed, wildly, violently. _

_They kept coming._

_There were more of them._

_And more again._

_She screamed._

_Screamed and thrashed._

_But they kept coming._

_More._

_And more._

_And more._

_The rats. _

"Maia! Maia, wake up!" Caroline shook her again, harder, putting the candle down on the floor. "Maia, wake up. It's just a dream."

Her eyes locked with Cassiopeia's, kneeling on the opposite side the child. Worry. Fear.

Suddenly, Maia sat up and doubled over gasping for air, rubbing at her arms and legs and brushing her hair furiously away from her face. She had ended up on the carpet. She looked up at the windowsill. She must have fallen asleep there and crashed to the ground in her attempts to get rid of the rats.

In the doorway, Ernie and Justin looked on, pale-faced.

Caroline rubbed her back, "Hush, Maia. It was just a dream. Just a nightmare."

She chocked, "They were everywhere. I couldn't get them off me."

"Who?" Said Cassiopeia, sharply. "Did you See something?"

Maia clutched her arms tightly around herself, and leant back against Caroline. "Rats. Everywhere. It was... horrible. They were... they were crawling all over me."

"Was it a nightmare or a vision?"

"Both, I think. It had to be a vision, of sorts... It felt so real."

Cassiopeia nodded briskly, "Well, there's nothing to be done about it now. Go back to sleep and we can talk about it in the morning." She turned to the two boys, "And the same goes for you. Bed. Now."

And with that, she moved quickly from the room, the boys fleeing ahead of her.

Caroline stroked her hair, "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine. Go back to bed."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, mother."

Caroline held her hand as she stood up, and tucked her into her bed. She kissed her hairline, "I'm just down the hallway if you need me."

...

Cassiopeia paced the library floor, up and down, up and down, how many times had she done this, just this year alone?

But rats... rats were not a good sign.

A plague upon their House?

Or a traitor?

A turncoat?

Lucius?

Or were they trapped?

All of them, running and chasing their tails?

Because they could not see the trap, the turncoat, or recognise the true threat?

Who was the greater threat? Lucius or Sirius? The Dark Lord?

Up and down, up and down.

However far she walked, she knew it was no good.

Something bad was coming.

A plague upon their house.

...

When Yule morning found them, when dawn finally broke, the inhabitants of Black Rose House were not well-rested. Justin, Ernie and Maia traipsed down to the breakfast room together, bleary-eyed even if they were dressed in some of their best robes. Though still, through their exhaustion, they smiled and the feast spread out before them.

The table was almost groaning under the weight of pain au chocolat, croissants and brioche. Bowls of fresh fruit and thick, creamy yogurt ran up and down the length of the table. And the centre piece was an elaborate display of various types of honey, arranged and styled by colour and texture to look like a rose.

"We thought we'd go continental this year, children." Said Caroline smiling at them, standing to one side and holding a cup of coffee. "Shall we start?"

They sat down and began to help themselves to the food, as Twinky and Trixie busied themselves making sure that everyone had their tea and coffee exactly as they liked it, before sitting down at the table themselves and loading their plates with apples and honey.

Caroline saw Justin's questioning look, "Twinky and Trixie usually prefer to eat together earlier in the morning and later in the evening, though they do join us on occasion, and always for special occasions like Yule and Hallowe'en."

Trixie smiled, "We is liking to use the evening meals to be planning for the next day, but we is also liking it when we is eating here too. When it was just being me and Mistress Caroline in London, we was always eating together for the company."

Cassiopeia cleared her throat, "Do the muggles have a similar system?"

Justin shook his head, "Not really. Of course, my family always had servants in the past, but that isn't really done anymore. Now we just have a maid who comes in to do the cleaning in the morning, and another to come and cook the dinner in the evening. They're both university students, I think. I don't really see them much, as I'm usually at school now."

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow, "Please explain this 'university' to me?"

Justin glanced slightly to Ernie, who shrugged – "Ernst, you know not to shrug!" snapped Cassiopeia – and Justin, more wary than before, said, "It's a form of higher education, after one finishes school, or in the muggle world, Sixth Form. That's where we study for the A Levels you need to go to university. They're a little like NEWTS, I think. You take a small selection of subjects, maybe three or four, and then when you go to university, you study one subject in depth. So, if there were wizarding universities, people like Maia would take a degree in Potions, and Ernie languages, like Gobbledegook or Mermish."

"How fascinating." Said Cassiopeia, returning to her tea.

"We do have something similar though," said Ernie, "you haven't had careers talk yet though, so I don't think anyone will have told you. But you can take apprenticeships in things like Healing and Potions and Transfiguration, if you want a specific job in that area."

"And what would you like to do, Ernst?" said Caroline.

"I should like to join the Ministry."

Maia rolled her eyes, "That's what you all want to do? You, Draco, Blaise, Diggory no doubt, and Bertram too."

Ernie laughed, "Well, it's expected. What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to take over the running of my House." She said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

...

A few hours later, the children – Maia, Draco, Justin and Ernie – found themselves sitting around the tree unwrapping present after present. They were getting along well, although Draco was noticeably cool towards Justin. Narcissa, Caroline and Cassiopeia sat together in a cluster of armchairs by the fire, while Lucius had sat back and looked on in distaste for an hour or two before excusing himself to the study.

Justin sat back from un-wrapping a heavy pile of books – a complete study guide of Gobbledegook from beginner to advanced level with an extra guide to Goblin history, etiquette and culture – from Cassiopeia. "Thank you very much for your gift, Madam Black. It was very thoughtful, and I shall be sure to put it to good use."

"You're most welcome." She said, not looking up from her new volume on blood magic.

Ernie crawled under the tree, "Here are some more. Here's one for Maia, but I don't recognise the writing."

He held up a small box, roughly wrapped, and held it out to Maia.

"Don't touch it!" snapped Cassiopeia, having crossed the room with her wand drawn in one hand, and the other outstretched to push Maia back.

The room fell still and silent; the only movement being Cassiopeia's wand and the only noise her whispered spells. Narcissa's nails dug into the arm of her chair, while Ernie's lower lip quivered. Caroline was frozen in her chair, half-sitting, half-standing, looking on in horror.

"You may open it."

Slowly, cautiously, Maia reached out and took the box from Ernie. She removed the wrapping, tossed it to one side, and lifted the lid of the wooden box. Resting in the centre on a black, silk cushion was a cloudy orb, which glowed bright red the moment she lifted it from its resting place.

All the colour drained from Cassiopeia's face, and the lines of her age seemed to deepen in a moment.

Her voice, soft and almost broken, nevertheless managed to fill the room.

"_No_."

...

**The next update will be posted within one week. ;) **


	87. The Corners of a Lifetime, Part One

**A/N – Hello all! This is an 'interlude moment' for the next chapter, which I'll be posting tomorrow. : ) **

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Eighty Seven_ ~ The Corners of a Lifetime, Part One_

Maia stared down at the glowing, scarlet orb, as Cassiopeia reached across and snatched it from her hand. It instantly began to fade back to a cloudy grey.

"I don't understand."

All the heads into the room turned to Narcissa, who sucked her lips, before repeating. "I just don't understand."

Cassiopeia looked her up and down for a moment before standing up again and pulling Maia to her feet alongside her.

"Caroline."

And with that, she led the march out of the room, leaving the others behind in silence.

...

In the side room, Cassiopeia immediately began to pace. "I don't know how he's done this. I don't know how he found this out." She held the orb so tightly in her hand that Maia wondered if it would break.

"What is it?" said Caroline.

"It's a Rememberball," answered Maia, "and when it glows red, it means you've forgotten something."

"Well, that could be completely innocent. You could have forgotten your homework, or a message you needed to deliver..."

Cassiopeia didn't let up the speed of her pacing for a second to bark, "Do you really believe that, Caroline?"

"Not for a moment, but one can hope."

Cassiopeia shook her head distractedly, "The question is _how_?"

"How it got here?" asked Maia.

"No, but we'll have to ask that one in time. No, the question now is how he found out."

Caroline's lips pursed, "Found out what, exactly?"

"That I obliviated Maia."

...


	88. The Corners of a Lifetime, Part Two

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Eighty Eight _~ The Corners of a Lifetime, Part Two_

"_That I obliviated Maia."_

"Sorry?"

"I _beg _your pardon?"

Cassiopeia waved her hand, "It was a long time ago..."

"Do not wave your hand at me like that, Cassiopeia Black, you'll _tell_ me what you did to _my_ daughter right now."

"She's as much mine as she is yours, Caroline."

"Tell. Me. Now." Snarled Caroline; everything polite, genteel and elegant disappearing from her persona as she reached down and firmly gripped Maia's shoulder, pulling her back behind her.

Cassiopeia rolled her eyes, "Very well, then. As you are aware, I performed Legilimacy on Maia during her seventh birthday party, after I found out she was a Seer."

"Yes, and I've never been happy about that."

"Yes, well, I'd come to the conclusion that you and Marius had kidnapped a magical child from a pureblood wizarding family by that point, hadn't I? I mean, how else would Seer blood enter the Black family..." She finally stopped her pacing and sat herself down in an armchair, "So I had to find out where she was from, if there was something she remembered. And well, there was." She looked directly at Maia, who had managed to step out to stand next to Caroline, although was still locked at her mother's side by Caroline's vice-like grip.

"They were old memories, and un-clear. They were your earliest memories, and long ago lost. Lost, but not forgotten. So when I searched, I found them. The memories of your mother and your... father. I knew, then, that Marius and Caroline must have gotten themselves into something far more dangerous than they could ever have realised. And I knew that your very existence put you in danger, Maia."

She stopped and sighed for the moment, looking around the room and wondering if there was a time when the man in question had played here as a boy. So much had changed since those days.

Cassiopeia went on, "Black is deranged. At one time, he may have been a clever, handsome and loyal supporter of the Dark Lord. And even then, you would have been in danger from him, once he thought that you were... contaminated by your associations with Marius and Caroline. I may have sought to protect you, at times, from more... liberal influences, but I have never been _quite_ so zealous as to believe death a suitable punishment for dishonour. I left the Tonks' in peace, did I not? The Blacks have often burned _rebellious _family members from our trees within the home, but formal disownment through the goblins? Death? There is a difference between rebellion and treason. And one does not like to be thought barbaric."

"But Black would not have thought like that. He would have either wanted you dead, or wanted you back, and I'm still not sure which is worse. That will not have changed now, only that he's spent almost over a decade in Azkaban."

Caroline's grip on Maia became even tighter.

"And those memories, Maia, they were incriminating. They were the only solid proof left, aside from Blood Magic, which would have proven that you were his daughter. And so I did the only logical thing I could. I obliviated not only your memory of the Legilimacy, but also all your memories of your former life. It was dangerous, but I believed that Black was the greater threat in that moment than any obliviation." She took a breath, "You were so young when they died, and when you came to Marius and Caroline, that anyone searching your mind would not have thought anything of it." She paused and took a shallow breath, "Unless that was exactly what they were looking for."

There was a thick and heavy silence, almost oppressive, that filled the room as Maia and Caroline tried to work out how to respond. But how could anyone respond to that?

Cassiopeia shook her head, "For what it's worth, you have my apologies. It is not generally considered an... acceptable thing to-"

"to do? I confess that I am not expert, but you could have damaged her mind! Could you have even killed her?"

"I did it to keep her _safe_!"

"So when you _confessed_ everything last year, your confession was as selective as ever, was it not?"

"This is not a game, Caroline!"

"Really? Are you sure? Are you sure that your life isn't a chessboard, and we aren't your pawns?"

"If you want to doubt me know, think on what I've done for you! Think on Lucius' threat, and what I did, what I would have done, to keep you both safe!"

The silence returned.

"What did Uncle Lucius do?" asked Maia, her voice small and quiet.

Cassiopeia shook her head, "We don't have time for this now, the others are waiting. We need more time. There are more important things to discuss at this present moment."

"Tell me."

"_Later."_

Caroline stroked Maia's hair, both a warning and an act of sympathy, "So the question is, how did he find out that you did this?"

Cassiopeia nodded slowly, "Yes. Because to find that out would mean... would mean that he'd have had to have gotten to Maia."

"But I would know that, wouldn't I?" But her face and voice were already weak.

Cassiopeia shook her head, "Not if he'd obliviated you as well. I think that Rememberball is a warning. A deeply concerning warning."

Maia's legs began to shake, and she pulled away from her mother to sit in an armchair, wrapping her arms around herself. "Are you sure?"

Cassiopeia chewed her lips, "I can't be certain... But it _has_ to be from him. It is not from any of us, to be sure. It could just be a symbol, for a daughter to remember her father, but... but I would not put _anything_ past Black. And I would not like to be guilty of optimism, when this could well mean something awful. It means something awful anyway. He's supposed to think that you're dead. It would seem that he's found out the truth."

Maia took a steadying breath, "Could we have been betrayed? Could someone from the Council have told him?"

Cassiopeia shook her head, "We cannot know unless we summon them again, and there is only one real candidate for the traitor anyway. Yet we cannot fight him now. We are not in a strong enough position." For the first time in her life, Maia watched as Cassiopeia's shoulders slumped and as she leant back into her chair, "Our House is weakening."

Caroline sat down next to Maia and pulled her close, "Is there any way of knowing, if Black's contacted Maia? If he's obliviated her as well? Maybe he never found out about your oblivation, maybe he only knows about his own, and that's why he sent the Rememberall? To make her realise that she'd met him, and he'd taken her memory of it?"

"I could search all her memories, to look for gaps, or false memories, but if Black is as skilled as I, then I may not be able to find them." She shook her head, "The Blacks are known for their skills in the Mind Arts." She sighed.

Caroline held Maia tighter, "I promised you that I wouldn't let anything happen to you, and I mean it. We'll keep you safe, even if we have to keep you here."

"But he must have already got in _here_. He got the present in here. And he knows I'm his daughter. And he might know Cassiopeia obliviated me. And he might have obliviated me himself." Her voice rose, high and thin. She was crying. Caroline rubbed her back, murmuring that she should take deep breaths.

Cassiopeia stood up, "Merlin help us, but we have to go back. We'll deal with this later, and we _will_ deal with this. But now we have to put on our show."

"Rule Number Five."

"And Two."

"And Four." Chocked out Maia, squaring her shoulders and drying her eyes.

They smiled grimly at each other, and went back to their guests _en masse_.

...


	89. Times Gone By

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Eighty Nine_ ~ Times Gone By_

The next few days were painful in the Black house, and although Maia did not want to admit it, even to herself, she was glad to see the back of Justin and Ernie. Not because she disliked or distrusted them, but because they could not be told what was going on, and thus hindered the progress of their training and investigations.

Cassiopeia had searched Maia's memory, under Caroline's supervision, and found no evidence of tampering. However, as Cassiopeia herself could alter memories and leave no trace, this was not as comforting as it should have been. Maia was left with a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach, a feeling of fear like she'd never known before, that Black could have altered her memory. But what could have passed between them? She didn't even like to think on it. Not when Cassiopeia had had to check her for the Imperius Curse.

She sincerely hoped that she never had, and more importantly never would, meet Sirius Black.

Because he was not, and never would be, her father.

Her father was Marius Black, the only father she had ever known, and the only father she would ever love. And most certainly the only one she ever needed. Sirius Black was a murderer, an escaped convict. That was all.

She wanted her father here so badly that it hurt, especially as New Year's Eve approached.

_His best girl_.

It was for this, among other reasons, that she had declined Cassiopeia's offer to restore her memories. If she put them back now, then Maia would be able to recall them if she tried, and would know the faces of her birth mother and father. While part of her, with Caroline's encouragement, did want to know Marlene, a stronger part recoiled from the thought of remembering Sirius Black. The memories were safe with Cassiopeia, and maybe one day she could see them. The day was not now. Caroline, instead, had sought out books of Gaelic. The idea was that Maia could then slowly and indirectly introduce herself to this other side of her family, the McKinnons, and prepare herself to one day learn about them and Marlene.

Though there were still more pressing concerns.

Aunt Cassiopeia's attempts to uncover how the wards had been breached, how the present could even have found its way under the tree in the first place, had yielded no results. The wards showed no evidence of being weakened or tampered with. It was as though the line had never been crossed.

And then there were the nightmares.

Every single morning she had woken up in horror, trying to pull the non-existent rats from herself.

Her only saving grace was her love of her family, and her studies. She had long since finished her schoolwork and, in a rare moment of leniency Maia could only assume was demanded by her mother, Cassiopeia had left Maia alone about Transfiguration. She spent half the day coaching Maia in her duelling skills, and left her to her own devices for the afternoon, as long as she was studying. In addition to her progress in Gaelic, Maia revised her other languages, particularly Gobbledegook, but spent most of her time simply exploring Cassiopeia's library, of which she had been given free reign. Her particular interest was, of course, Potions, and she had found a book on untraceable poisons which might one day be of great use. However, she'd also found the section on Blood Magic, and was now seeking to combine that with Potions. It was a distraction, at least.

Although not much of one.

There was, after all, the secrecy and the betrayal.

She could not tell Draco about the Rememberball. As much as she wanted to, she knew that she could not. Not as long as his father remained an unknown element.

Lucius Malfoy, that he had never loved her, or even cared for her, was something Maia had long come to terms with.

That he had knowingly and wilfully supported the Dark Lord, that he had aided and abetted in the massacre of the McKinnons, that he had murdered countless unknown others, that he had freely tortured, that he freely had threatened the lives of herself and her mother... those were things she had yet to comprehend.

But it was clear; the unity of the Malfoys and the Blacks was over.

She could never, ever doubt Draco.

And she would always trust him.

And it was like a physical wound to know that there were things she now could not tell him, not while the issue of Lucius would remain unresolved.

And for now, the House of Black stood alone, against Black, against Lucius and against the Dark Lord...

...

It was New Year's Eve and the ballroom at Black Rose House had been flung open and decorated for the first time in decades. The colour scheme of the evening was 'black and _blanc_'. The black and white marble tiles gleamed, and reflected the glittering strings of black and clear crystals which were hung around the room and between the chandeliers. Black and white roses, draped with gems, where arranged in elaborate displays at the centre of each table, and encased within the napkin folded on each place at the table was either a black or white pearl.

Nobody would claim that the Blacks had been worrying about their Gringotts account when they had planned their party.

The message was clear.

_The House of Black was untouchable_.

Maia looked on as the last of the preparations were made. She was already dressed. To her disappointment, her mother had declared that she was too young to wear black, and to have jewels in her hair. Her ivory dress robes were cut in one of the traditional styles: high at the neck with tight sleeves which buttoned from her wrist to her elbow, but which flared out slightly at her waist. When she was older, she sincerely hoped, her dress robes would have a _train_. But they were more grown up than her dress robes of the past – the hem fell to the floor, rather that to just above her ankles.

And at least, if she could not have jewels, she had been able to persuade her mother that flowers were also out of the question.

She was Heir to a noble House, not some dainty fairy-maiden. She had to look powerful and imposing.

She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window.

She wished she were wearing black.

With her complexion, this colour just made her look sick.

She sighed and left the ballroom with her nose in the air. She didn't want to stay much longer, in case people thought that she had _helped_ to prepare for her own party.

...

Maia's face hurt, and her legs ached, from smiling so much and curtseying so often to her arriving guests.

She wished that she could stand tall and merely incline her head as her Aunt Cassiopeia did. Goodness, if she could do that, she'd keep smiling. After all, only having one source of pain was better than two. Though she greatly envied her aunt, who neither smiled nor curtseyed.

However, according to her mother, she was too young to get away with this. Apparently, it made her look sullen.

Everyone she cared to greet had long since arrived – the people who she liked and the people who were important. It was only the _minor_ dignitaries who were left, after all. Though that was not, according to her mother, reason enough to snub them.

A lot of things 'according to her mother' that night were infuriating her.

Maia knew she didn't want to be here, and she was certain her mother must have felt the same. She wanted to miss her father, and she wanted to be left alone after everything that had happened.

But of course, they had to put on a show.

So, with a sigh, Maia turned and smiled and curtseyed to the next dignitary, his aesthetically displeasing wife, and his inconsequential son.

Because, when it came down to it, her mother and aunt were right, and this show was necessary.

And so, she recited the each of the rules in turn, as a way of getting through this torture.

_Rule One..._

_Rule Two..._

_Rule Three..._

_Rule Four..._

_Rule Five..._

_Rule Six..._

_Rule Seven..._

_Rule Eight..._

_Rule Nine..._

_Rule Ten..._

_Rule Eleven..._

_Rule Twelve..._

_Rule Thirteen..._

...

Tonks picked up the long hem of her dress robes and screwed up her nose; her previously demure auburn locks turned a vibrant shade of yellow.

Helga would be proud of her: the badger in the snake pit.

Craning up on her tiptoes, she looked out across the crowd until she spotted him, sulking in the corner.

Stupid man.

...

Finally free, Maia made her way through the crowd, careful to make sure that her neck was properly arched and her face properly proud.

And then she saw him.

...

"Wotcher, Remus."

He turned and smiled in a way that did not quite reach his eyes, "Good evening, Tonks."

"So, it seems they lowered the tone of the guest list this year."

He shrugged, "They don't usually throw one of these. It's been a given for the last few years that the Macmillans throw the New Year's Eve party."

"Yeah, well, the Tonks' are exactly the _crème de la crème_ of wizarding society, you know. I thought dad was going to chock on his tea when mum showed him the invite."

"Well, in terms of social acceptability, I'm sure you're doing better than I am."

Tonks rolled her eyes, "Don't be so morose, Remus. It doesn't suit you."

For a moment, he looked put out. "My apologies."

"Remus, don't be such a drama queen. It was a fair point. Now stop moping and ask me to dance."

Fighting back a smile, he held out his hand and led her to join the waltzing partners on the dance floor.

"So, who invited you anyway, Remus?"

"Caroline."

"Oh, should I be jealous?" she smiled.

"Never."

...

With a tight grip on his elbow, Maia hauled Draco through the door to the library and closed it behind them, in a manner completely at odds with her refined dress.

Rubbing his elbow, Draco scowled at her. "Was that _entirely_ necessary, sister?"

She raised an eyebrow, "Oh, are you weakening?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Well then."

"So, what do you want?"

"Who says I want anything?"

"You _clearly _want something. Why else would you be sneaking off from the party?"

"Yes, well, when was the last time we have the chance to talk freely?" said Maia, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, and we both know who's fault that is." Snapped Draco.

"I beg your pardon."

Draco frowned, "Not yours, the mudblood's, of course."

Maia flinched, "Please don't use that word."

"Sorry, but I will. I hate him, Maia."

"How? Justin's the most harmless person ever to walk the earth. Hating him is like hating a flobberworm. It's pointless."

"He's put you in danger before, Maia, and he'll do it again. Your association with him is going to come to no good, and you can hardly expect me to approve of it."

"Give you a cane and you'd look like your father." She snapped.

Draco took a step back, "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Maia pinched the bridge of her nose, "I'm sorry. That was unhelpful. But, you were there... I can't help but feel some form of... resentment towards Uncle Lucius, for his part in the murder of the McKinnons."

Draco took a deep breath, "But we're both still your family. And family comes first. We are of the same blood. Our Houses are allies."

"I know." And even as she said them, the words felt like a dead weight in her stomach. But a few weeks ago, she had told her mother and aunt that she could not imagine a world in which she was disloyal to them. Yet at that time, she had also been incapable of seeing a world where she lied to Draco.

And yet she was lying to him right now.

It was all a pretence.

To pretend that nothing had changed between them.

When it had.

And none of it was her fault, or Draco's fault.

The fault lay with Lucius.

And she hated him for it.

She looked up to see Draco pacing, "If it wasn't for Finch-Fletchley, you would never have been Petrified. The monster was after him, not you. Now that I know you're a pureblood, I'm even more sure of that conclusion. He got you Petrified. It was his fault. And I hate him for it. You have no idea, no idea at all, what it was like to see your body, to think of how close I came to losing you. We were always meant to take this world by storm together. I can't imagine doing it without you-"

"-I feel the same-"

"-Good. Then drop him."

"No."

"Does he mean more to you than me?"

"Of course not!"

"Then why can't you do it?"

"Because he doesn't deserve it, and it wasn't his fault. It was the fault of the Dark Lord, whoever planted the diary, and the added incompetency of the Weasleys that it happened. You can't blame Justin." Again, with the lies.

_I know your father planted the diary._

_And I know you don't._

_I know your father threatened to kill me and mother._

_And I know you don't._

_I know your father broke with our family._

_And I know you don't..._

"I can, and I always have and always will." He snapped, stopping to turn and face her. "I swore that I'd get my revenge for it too. I swear it still. If I ever get the chance, I'll kill him."

"You're thirteen years old, you don't mean that."

"Don't doubt me, Maia. You never have before."

She stepped back, from his cold face, his cold eyes. Colder than she'd ever seen them.

He sank down into an armchair, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be like that."

"It's alright. It's the Black blood, we're all famous for our tempers."

He nodded, "I meant to ask you before how you were, how you were holding up."

"Again, we're Blacks. We can get through anything."

"I miss him too. He was always kind, always had a pleasant word for me."

Maia sighed, "I know..." She looked away for a moment, "Did you speak to your parents, about us eavesdropping on the House Council?"

"Yes." He looked pained for a moment, "Father was most displeased."

"Oh?"

Draco shook his head, "I don't want to talk about it. Mother was upset though."

"How so?"

"When I told her that you were upset about her reaction." There was a moment of silence before he carried on, "I'm not sure if she wants to talk to you about it, but she didn't mean it in a bad way. She," he sighed and rolled his eyes, raising his hands as if in surrender, "she thought it would soften father up to an idea she's been playing around in her head since I was in short trousers and your robes had frills."

"Do I want to know?"

"Can't you guess?"

"She wants to betroth us."

He shrugged, "Maybe nothing quite so old-fashioned. Just for me to take the hint and propose as soon as we're both of age."

"But that would never work – you're my brother."

"Ha. I'd say it wouldn't work for more reasons than that. Aunt Cassiopeia wants to keep the Houses of Black and Malfoy united but separate in principle. At least, that was what she said when she first named you Heir. Although if you were the boy and I was the girl, I doubt she'd have the same reservations." He smirked and raised an eyebrow, pulling off a fair impression of their aunt.

Maia swallowed and tried to laugh with him, "There is that."

Draco shrugged, his cheeks slightly pink, "Yes, well. Like I said, it's just a notion mother's dreamed up. You're my sister. She just wants to play dress-up with both of us, I don't doubt."

Maia nodded and smiled, "We should get back. It'll be time for the year's end soon."

Draco offered her his arm, and they made their way down to the ballroom together.

...

Laughing, they both staggered away from the ballroom floor, followed by highly disapproving looks.

"You know, it would only have been fair if you'd warned me."

"Warned you about what?"

"That you can't dance."

"I too can dance."

"My poor, battered and bruised feet beg to differ. As does Bartimus Crouch. You very nearly elbowed him in the face."

"Did I?"

Tonks looked nervous for a moment before laughing again, "Oh well, you win some, you lose some."

Remus shook his head, "You know, you really are remarkable."

She turned to look at him, her lips parted in surprise, when the crowds started to gather in to centre of the room, or formed smaller clusters, linking arms and holding hands. Tonks and Remus found themselves pushed back into one of the dark velvet curtains – too insignificant to be invited or even noticed – as the rest of the room broke into song, and Old Father Time died away.

And Remus had kissed her before the first verse was over.

...


	90. Remember Me

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Ninety_ ~ Remember Me_

Remus rolled his eyes at the grinning face before him, bouncing around in the flames. "Of course, of course."

"Good." She said firmly.

"You know I can't say no to you."

"Ok, so you'll be there?"

"I'll be there."

"Next Saturday?"

"Next Saturday, 7pm sharp, I'm paying." He said.

Tonks laughed, "Very well, just this once. I'll miss you until then."

"I'll miss you too."

And with that, she vanished from the fire grate and Remus turned back to his desk. He had only been back at Hogwarts for a week, term had only started yesterday, but it was true.

He really missed her.

...

Charity Burbage smiled fondly as she replaced another book back on the shelf. The young Miss. Black had visited only a few hours ago, to return the books she had read over the holidays and to request more.

Of course, these visits were rapidly becoming more and more of an excuse to talk. Given that the girl had been raised for a political life – or at least a life of pulling the political strings from behind the curtain – her analysis of texts was always astute, and always politically minded.

And so was now requesting legal texts.

She'd had to give her a booklist and tell her to order them herself. Charity liked to consider herself a woman of intellectual tastes, but she generally preferred history and literature to legal and political texts.

Still, she liked the girl, enjoyed her visits, and grew daily more certain in her conviction that she had her heart in the right place, even if her moral compass was a tad skewed at times.

...

Maia paced up and down the classroom where they had arranged to meet. They had been back at school for a week now, and this was the first convenient time they could arrange for their discussion.

And she was about to tell Hermione the whole truth.

Well, not exactly the _whole _truth. She couldn't tell her about the House affairs, and about Uncle Lucius' betrayal. But aside from that, Hermione would know everything.

She would know as much as Draco.

A knock at the door made her look up.

"Hello."

"Good evening."

Their voices were stilted, awkward.

"How were your holidays?"

"Good... Crookshanks went missing for a few days... I did my homework..." her voice trailed away.

Maia gestured to a chair, "Would you like to sit?"

"I'd prefer to stand."

"As would I." and Maia began to pace again, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

"I thought you wanted to talk to me?"

"I did... but it's not that simple."

"Is it really that hard for you to apologise?"

"Hermione, I'm not going to apologise." Hermione frowned, "Well, I am, but I'm going to do more than that. I'm going to tell you the truth, the truth about Sirius Black."

And then Hermione sat down.

...

Albus Dumbledore leant back in his chair, his old hands gently massaging his temples. His half moon spectacles lay discarded amidst his books and papers on his desk.

Fawkes gave a low, soothing hoot, and the old man smiled wanly. "Thank you, Fawkes, my boy."

And, slowly, he turned back to the mirror, "I thought that Cassiopeia had explained to you that you needed to help us, in order to see your wife."

"There was nothing about seeing, she said she would take me back to her."

"Yes... well, under the terms of the arrangement, you have to help us first."

"I don't feel up to it this evening."

"You've been saying that for a number of weeks, perhaps I should send for the school matron?"

Cygnus made no response, but stuck his nose in the air.

Dumbledore shook his head, and made a show of rearranging the fall of his long beard. "Perhaps, if you will not discuss the splitting of the soul, you will discuss your choice of container. Why did you choose a mirror?"

"I should have thought that would be obvious."

"Forgive me, but for those of us who do not desire immorality, that is not the case."

"I did not _desire _immortality, as you do crudely put it." He said, his lips tight.

"Then what did you desire?"

"That's none of your business, old man."

"Cygnus, your House is in danger. Do you want the House of Black to fall, after it has stood for more than a thousand years?"

Cygnus swallowed, "I chose the mirror for its reflection. It would not only contain my soul, but reflect it back to the world. Like a portrait, I was then still able to see and interact with the world. Much more rewarding than, say, putting oneself in a boot or a frying pan."

Dumbledore nodded slowly, "I imagine that the same principle might then apply to a book."

"You can hardly expect me to comment on that."

"I wish you would. I would value your insight. You, after all, are more experienced in these matters than I."

"Well, I shall not comment. And before you think you made a breakthrough, I'm going to point out that a short trip to the Department of Mysteries would have told you everything I have?"

"What do you mean?"

"It was quite the fashion, back in the Dark Ages, to put one's soul in one's mirror. It ended up causing quite the scandal, when a large number of mirrors made their way into muggle homes. 'Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?' and all that rot they came up with. Well, it all went down the drain from there. They thought their kings were going mad, step-mothers going after their daughters with poisoned fruit and so on. They were all rounded up and are being kept in one of the rooms in the Department. Didn't you know?" he finished, smugly.

"I never thought to ask."

"Can I see Druella now?"

"Not _quite_ yet, no."

...

Hermione fidgeted in her seat, "I wish you'd start." She said, "The suspense is killing me."

Maia bit her lip and sighed, "Well, I should apologise first. I am very sorry for what I called you. It was wrong and reprehensible. The whole concept behind it is wrong and reprehensible, and I am very sorry and ashamed that I ever adhered to them, or pretended to adhere to them in order to please others. I should have trusted my own judgement, and my own instincts better, and stayed true to them throughout and regardless. I had my reasons for doing it, but they were flawed, and are no excuse. The same goes for what I called you. I intended to cause you pain. And that is what I regret the most. I'm very sorry."

"What were your reasons?"

Maia waited a moment, "I think I should start from the beginning. When we first heard that Sirius Black had escaped, my family held a House Council, to decide how to proceed." She stopped and turned to Hermione, "How familiar are you with pureblood politics?"

Hermione frowned, "Not particularly familiar. I've studied the history of genealogy."

Maia nodded curtly, "Then you understand how much we value blood, and blood lines?"

Hermione tried not to look as though she found this distasteful, "Yes."

"It's not always like that, it's not all about Dark Magic, just Blood Magic. And they're not the same thing. Our Houses are dictated by our bloodlines, and thus by Blood Magic. Positions within the House are dictated by blood, or you might call it birthright. The Head of House is chosen on the strength of their connection to the previous Head of House. Usually, this means it's the eldest son. If there's no son, then the closest cousin, and so on. Of course, males are more generally chosen, but I do hope to alter that in the future."

Hermione nodded, to show that she was keeping up.

"When there is no clear successor, the Head of House has to choose an Heir, and secure it with the Goblins prior to their demise. Otherwise, all potential Heirs must duel for the position. There can be no compromise or discussion. It must be a fight, the theory being that they with the strongest Blood Magic will be the victor, and thus eligible to lead the House."

"How is all of this relevant?"

Maia sighed, "Believe me, in the occasionally ridiculous and always convoluted world of politics, this is relevant."

"Carry on, then."

"In more complicated situations... as there currently is with the House of Black, there is an Acting Head of House, when the actual Head of House is... incapacitated."

A light clicked in Hermione's head, reminded Maia of just why she had come to like her, "You aren't saying?"

"I'm afraid that I am. Sirius Black was never disowned from the House of Black, not formally, not so that his very blood was revoked from recognition through the Goblins. Perhaps this would have been done, eventually, but a year after his incarceration, Orion Black, our Head of House and Sirius' father died. Upon his death, Sirius became our Head of House. It then became impossible to revoke him."

"Oh my God."

"Indeed." Said Maia, with a thin smile, "It was arranged for my Great Aunt Cassiopeia to become the Acting Head of House, and she named me her Heir. The title could have been passed to Draco. At the time it was considered odd, as Draco was the pureblood. But, well, I'll get to that in a minute." She paused and took a deep breath, "It was thought that Sirius would die in Azkaban, and I would be free to take over the running of my House when I became of age, at least as Acting Head, until that _beast _died."

Maia sat down next to Hermione, "So when he escaped, we were thrown into a state of panic. As our Head of House, we could not fight him, but _by Merlin_ we could not support him. And, to make it worse, there was a secret being hidden. My family knew that I was not the daughter of Marius and Caroline. They adopted me. I found this out over the summer, when I eavesdropped on the House Council. I was the daughter – the _pureblood_ daughter – of Sirius Black and Marlene McKinnon. That was why Cassiopeia chose me: Draco and I had equal claim, but she wanted to keep the Black wealth away from the Malfoys."

"I thought you were allies?"

Her stomach twisted, "Of course, but we are still separate Houses. We did not want to merge. And that's hardly the main point here. Sirius Black is my father, but he believed that I was dead. Trust me, it is much safer for me, my House, and now for you and Potter and Weasley too, for him to continue to believe that I am dead. He's a twisted devotee of the Dark Lord. He was a spy and a traitor. He co-ordinated the murder of my birth mother and her family for their defiance of the Dark Lord. He betrayed Potter – and his parents – to the Dark Lord so that he might kill them. He blew up his best friend and innocent bystanders, just because he could. And he stood there and laughed. I know that you think I am a horrible, terrible person. I know that, because I was horrible and terrible to you. But to him, I am a blood traitor, for the things I have done and said. For the company I have kept. I have no doubt – and my family has no doubt – that he would kill me if he got the chance, or worse." She took a deep breath, "I said what I said to try and push you away. To try and stop you from digging deeper. It would not have been safe for either of us."

Hermione nodded, and reached out to clasp Maia's hand. "I don't think that you are a horrible or terrible person. Far from it. What you said hurt me, because I thought you were my friend. And now I know you are. I understand. I really do. I can forgive you for what you said, though I shall always wish you never said it, because it was a wrong and awful and prejudiced thing to say. And prejudice is always wrong and always disgusting. But I'm sorry that we confronted you the way we did – it was rash and thoughtless, but we heard the grown-ups talking in the pub and panicked. We thought that you didn't know, and that he was after you, and we just... we just acted on instinct. We were trying to keep you safe."

Maia smiled, "I know. I think part of me understood that at the time, although I didn't want to admit it."

"I'm glad you're safe though."

Maia sucked on her lips, "I wish I could be sure about that. He sent me a gift over the holidays. Which means he _knows_ I'm alive. Which is a truly horrifying thought. We don't even know how he found out, or how he got through the wards of our home. It makes me want to be sick, I feel so scared."

Hermione gasped and gripped her hand tighter. "Was it a broomstick?"

Maia frowned, "Why on earth would he send me a broomstick?"

"He sent one to Harry."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Very sure – a Firebolt, apparently. Would you know if he accessed any of the Black accounts?"

"Yes, unless he accessed the one in his own name. But surely he wouldn't be able to then anyway, the Ministry would be watching it, wouldn't they?"

Hermione snorted, "I don't have the greatest respect for the competency of the Ministry."

Maia fought back the urge to bury her head in her heads. She didn't either.

"So what did he send you?"

"A Rememberall."

"That's... unusual."

"We think it's either a symbolic or physical warning. Symbolic for a daughter to remember her father, or something more sinister... That he met me to find out and obliviated me, for example. It glows red when I touch it, and we can't work out why."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. You didn't tell him. For all we know, I did."

...

**Hello all, there's a bit of a time jump coming up in the next chapter, just so you're aware. **

**And I was going to wait a bit longer before posting this chapter, but I just want to get everything cleared up between Maia and Hermione. They've been on and off for three years now, from various misunderstandings and circumstances beyond their control, and I just wanted a bit of happiness because I'm getting fed up of constantly writing their fallings out! : )**

**Also, while I don't like giving out spoilers, but I feel I ought to say that there will be no Draco/Maia and no Dark Maia. The first because they have a very strong brother/sister relationship and I don't want to change that (and it would mess up the plot I've got for the next four books) and the second, because for me, the arc of this story is personal growth, not personal downfall! I don't want to write a story solely from the perspective of the bad guys, and I'm not going to risk portraying them as anything other than horrible people. I hope that the story will be of Maia and Cassiopeia overcoming familial prejudice, Caroline her snobbery and Sirius his Gryffindor blinkers etc. etc. **


	91. I Need To Be Loved

**I do not own Harry Potter**

**Just so you know, I have now finished 'As Black As Night'. There are five chapters to go and then the preview to 'Bright Star'. So, I'll be updating every few days now, because I'm excited, but there will then be a delay of a few weeks while I get 'Bright Star' up and running. I'm taking a slight break as well, because real life is rather busy too! **

**Also, there's a Dr. Who reference in this chapter if anyone can find it! : )**

'**I am human and I need to be loved, just like everybody else does.' Taken from **_**How Soon Is Now?**_** by The Smiths.**

Chapter Ninety One_ ~ I Need To Be Loved_

Slowly, the frost and ice melted away from the castle. The green came back, first in small buds, then blossoming flowers, and then thick, lush leaves. The weak winter sun became the blazing heat of June, and students discarded their robes to lie out on the banks of the lake, closing their eyes to feel the sunlight on their cheeks and to try and forget their upcoming exams.

Little had changed in the last few months.

It was widely known that the Hippogriff Buckbeak was on trial for his life, but few cared enough to do anything about it. Perhaps they may have cared somewhat, but not enough to go up against the might of the Malfoys.

Hermione Granger was not intimidated, in the slightest, by the age, wealth and prestige of the family she opposed. It was not in her character. She studied late into the night, trying to come up with a way to save Buckbeak and keep up with her relentless timetable. Maia gave her some minimal and half-hearted assistance, not being particularly concerned with the fate of the beast even if the accident was Draco's own fault. He was still her brother, after all.

Nevertheless, Maia and Hermione had become noticeably closer during the passing months. They were on first name terms and openly socialised outside of lessons, and the library. Maia did not care for Buckbeak, but she did care that Hermione appeared to be working herself into a state of exhaustion. So, when she was not talking to Weasley and Potter after the 'Scabbers Incident', Maia had taken it upon herself to drag Hermione to Hogsmeade with her and her friends. Tracey and Daphne had been guarded and cautious, but polite and civil nonetheless. Together, they took Hermione shopping, and announcedthat periwinkle blue was 'her colour' after finding and insisting she purchase a rather fetching cloche hat.

Although the Goldren Trio were now 'back together', as it were, Hermione and Maia remained close and the two boys simply avoided the cousin of their arch-nemesis as best they could in the hope of keeping the always tenuous peace.

And, despite the months that had passed, the Ministry were no closer to catching Sirius Black, and Maia tried hard to push that knowledge from her mind. Aside from the Rememberall, she had heard nothing more from him. She had passed her knowledge of the broom onto Aunt Cassiopeia, but even that had brought their own investigations no closer to a conclusion. Neither could they draw anything from the rats which repeatedly haunted Maia's dreams. They were following her, in the tea leaves, in her crystal ball. They wouldn't leave her alone.

Still, she had some comforts. Draco and Maia spent as much time together as ever. He chose not to comment on Hermione and Justin, and Maia, for obvious reasons, did not bring up Uncle Lucius. They could both sense that they were holding something back, but came to the mutually unspoken agreement that they loved each other more than the secrets they were hiding, and that nothing would truly keep them apart.

Because family comes first.

And love conquers all...

...

Remus paced up and down the small meadow, crushing the grass and leaves underfoot. His stomach had tied itself up in knots and he was wringing his uncharacteristically sweaty hands in tight circles. The afternoon sun was warm, but not _that _warm.

He had absolutely no right to be doing this.

Who was he to be doing this?

Not a man, a beast.

Not a whole man, a broken one.

He couldn't do this, couldn't take away her life and future.

But he loved her.

Of course he loved her.

How could he not?

How could anyone not?

The way she had kept smiling.

And, Merlin knew, he'd doubted. He'd tried to stay away. He'd tried to do the right thing. He'd wanted to do the right thing. But she was so beautiful. Not beautiful like the Greengrass women were always beautiful. Instead, she had this... she had this _way_ about her that was beautiful, in the way she smiled, always smiled, and in the way she cared, and hoped, and truly seemed to believe that they could make this work.

They couldn't make this work.

She was young and naive.

He shouldn't have let it get this far.

Should have stopped this sooner.

What was he doing?

He was a fool. A monster, snatching her life from her.

But she wasn't a fool, she knew what he was. She didn't see him as a monster. She wasn't naive. She wasn't a child. She was a grown woman, an Auror. Or at least, she was a cadet in training who would be fully qualified in a few short months, in November. She could make her own decisions. She knew what she was getting into, always had.

But who was he to take that away from her?

How could she ever hope to progress in the Auror Office married to him?

If he loved her, he would let her go.

He couldn't ruin her life.

Couldn't drag her down with him.

Merlin, he didn't doubt that their marriage would be declared illegal anyway.

Umbridge would see to it.

She wanted to push that legislation through already. The only thing stopping her was a backlog.

But if he looked at it objectively, why couldn't he marry?

If he stopped hating himself, everything he was, for one moment, what was stopping him? What was wrong with him?

He was a well-educated man, a sensible age, and she wasn't _so___much younger than him. Twenty one was a perfectly normal age to be married. It was common to marry young in their world – there were so few of them that they paired off quicker. It wouldn't stop her doing anything, wouldn't stop her training.

And Lily had been younger, as had Molly and even Tonks' own mother.

Oh Merlin...

A small 'pop' sounded and he turned to see Tonks standing there, bathed in sunlight. She eyed the picnic basket, "Well, this looks like a nice way to spend my lunch break."

Remus swallowed thickly, and pulled the small velvet box from his pocket. He crossed the meadow, clasped both her hands in his, and knelt, both knees buried in the grass, at her feet. "I had... I had planned a more romantic way of doing this." He jerked his head, "There's even champagne in the basket." His voice sounded oddly strangled. He swallowed again.

Tonks, crying slightly, smiled. "I'm on duty anyway."

He shrugged, "I just wanted to do it properly."

She laughed, tilting her head back, and the sunlight catching her tears and making them glisten on her cheek. "Well, get on with it!"

He paused, and rubbed small circles on the back of her hands with his thumbs, "Are you sure?"

"Pardon?"

"Are you sure you want me to?"

She shook her head, "Oh Remus, you do know how to kill a mood. Hurry up and get on with it."

He laughed a little, watched his hands massage her small ones, and looked straight up at her. His nerves seemed to vanish.

Suddenly, telling her he loved her was the easiest thing in the world.

As easy as breathing.

Because he loved her with every breath he took.

"I once told you that you were remarkable. I meant it, and I still believe it now. You are the most remarkable woman I have ever met. You saw past the monster from the moment we met, in a way I never have. I haven't learnt to do that yet... But by Godric, I hope you'll teach me."

He watched as she tried to wipe her eyes on the shoulder of her work robes, smudging the little make-up she wore.

He took a deep breath, "But more than that, I love you because you are kind and brave and honest. And I don't know how to tell you everything I feel, because you mean everything to me. But I hope that I'll have the rest of our lives to find a way to tell you, to show you. Nymphadora Marie Tonks, will you do me the very great honour of becoming my wife?"

Wordlessly, Tonks nodded and cuffed him round the back of the head, for being such a stupid, annoying man for making her stand in a field and blubber like a fool when she had to go back to work in a minute, and argh, he just annoyed her so much, and damn it, she couldn't stop loving him.

Laughing, Remus pushed the thin silver band and small diamond onto her finger, kissed it, and the stood, picking her up in his arms and swinging them both around and around in a circle.

The sunlight danced around them, catching the dust and pollen in the air, making them glow silver and gold. The flowers swayed lightly in the breeze, and carried their laughter slowly away, before it died in the distance.

And they were there, together, alone, and at peace with the world and everyone in it.

...

Draco, Maia and the rest of the Slytherins made their way through the corridors, out to the grounds of Hogwarts. It was early in the morning, and they were all dragging their heels, Maia especially so, as her nightmare about the rats had been especially bad last night. She rubbed her eyes, trying to force out some of her sleepiness.

"I don't think I can face this today." Said Blaise, yawning.

Tracey shrugged, and tried to hold her eyes open with her fingers.

"Don't do that, Tracey, it's not ladylike." Said Daphne.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures."

"Those Quidditch players are rubbing off on you."

"Yeah, well, we won the Quidditch Cup didn't we, third year running since we came to school."

"I suppose there is that."

"I think Wood cried." Said Maia.

"I _know_ Wood cried." Added Draco, laughing and making his cousin role her eyes.

"They might have had a chance, had we not thrashed them at the start of the year." said Blaise.

"Yes, well, I'm just glad Potter was ok after that..."

"Oh Salazar, don't get me started on Potter this early in the morning!" threw in Draco. "Why can't the Gryffindors go first? Granger would have no problem with this hour. We're refined, elegant beings. This hour is far too early for us. It's an hour for people who'll one day have to work for a living."

"I suppose he has to get through all the school years... It's easier to do us all in one day." Said Daphne, trying to be reasonable.

"Oh, look, there he is." Said Tracey, pointing to Professor Lupin standing off into the distance, and rubbing his hands together with glee.

"Oh Merlin, is that an obstacle course?"

"We're doomed."

...

They were sitting in a small hut, which Professor Lupin had constructed, so that they could not watch their classmates go ahead and get ideas. It had to be a spontaneous reaction. So, one by one, the Slytherins went out and did not return.

Crabbe and Goyle had gone first.

Then Tracey.

Then Blaise.

The Professor was calling them in a random order.

"You know, I don't think obstacle courses are for people like us either." Said Maia.

"Why?" said Daphne, checking her hair in the mirror to make sure that it was all safely tucked away and out of the firing line for whatever was coming up.

"Because I would never knowingly or willingly put myself in danger, why would I go _looking_ for trouble? And if there was something I wanted, but I needed to do something dangerous to get it, I'd just pay off someone else to do it for me?"

Her friend laughed, "But what if there's a bad investment, and the Black fortune vanishes?"

Maia's eyes flashed, "Don't even joke."

Daphne smirked, "What about family, then? Or if someone got that Black temper of yours riled up?"

Draco laughed, "One should never joke about the Black temper either." He nodded his head sagely.

The door opened and Professor Lupin walked in, wearing the same stupid grin he'd been wearing all week, even though the full moon was right at hand and there were heavy bags under his eyes. Even Maia was started to get tired by his unfailing happiness. Well, that was what she said in the Common Room to appease Draco. She was quite excited at the prospect of going to a wedding.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy."

Draco stood, bowed to the ladies left in the room, and pulled his wand from his holster.

...

It had all been too easy for someone of his intelligence.

The Kappas and Hinkypunks and Grindylows had been nothing.

And now he stood in front of the chest, listening to the low rattling from inside, the sound of something straining to get out, telling him what was in there.

He knew what he had to do. He'd read the instructions. He had to climb into the large chest – bigger on the inside than it was on the outside – and deal with the Boggart.

It sounded so simple when you said it like that.

His heart thudded in his chest.

He felt his wand twitch in his hand.

His wand.

_His wand._

_His hand._

_His magic._

He took a deep breath, willing himself to do this, willing himself to be brave, strong.

He was a Malfoy, and that meant something to him.

He couldn't cower.

He couldn't be a coward.

Another deep breath.

This wasn't real. What was waiting for him in there wasn't real. And if he could do this, if he could face, if he could defeat his Boggart, then he would always have that. It would be something that could never be taken from him.

He wanted to be brave ad strong, just this once. Just this one time.

He took another breath and lifted the clasp, easily climbing down into the chest.

Lucius Malfoy stood before him, his thick, dark robes falling to the ground without a crease. His signet-bearing hand resting, lightly, on the top on his cane.

He rapped the cane of the floor.

"You've failed our House."

His nose curled with distaste.

"Our House is ruined, gone. And it's all your fault. Your mother, without a home. Your cousins, looking on in shame and embarrassment as you take their charity."

"I'm sorry father."

Draco took a step back, bowing. Cringing, as the back of his neck was exposed.

"You apologise now? Now, when it's too late? So tell me, Draco, did you fail from incompetence, or did you betray the House of Malfoy?"

"No father, never."

The cane rapped on the floor, and Draco shuddered. He wished it wasn't like this.

Then he stood up, pointing his wand at his father, clenching his stomach muscles tightly, and snapped, "Riddikulus."

He won.

...

Maia stood before the chest.

She'd been standing there for a while, staring at the clasp.

She could hear footsteps coming closer, although Professor Lupin kept his distance. "You need to climb into the chest, Miss. Black, in order to complete the course."

She knew, with every moment that she stood there, she risked losing marks.

"I am aware of that, Professor." She said, her tone almost civil.

She knew she had to climb into the chest.

She just didn't want to.

She couldn't move, and hadn't moved, since she'd realised what was in there.

What was waiting for her.

Her worst fear.

Her very worst fear.

She didn't want to see it, see them, see him, see everything, see herself.

She couldn't see that.

Couldn't bear that.

She didn't have to.

Shouldn't have to.

She turned and ran.

...


	92. What Comes To Pass

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Ninety Two_ ~ What Comes To Pass_

Maia walked away from the exam eating Honeydukes chocolate.

Remus said that it was good for stress or shock. He hadn't commented on her failure to climb into the chest, and part of her wished he had. A look of rebuke would have been better than that awful one of pity.

Eventually, she turned back towards the entrance to the castle, having sulked alone by the lake for a while, and saw the large gamekeeper approach. He was leading the condemned Hippogriff along by a lead-rope. She ducked back and hid from him as he passed. He was furiously pushing the tears from his eyes.

She had forgotten that today was the day of the execution.

He must be trying to give the beast some peace, some fresh air, during its final hours.

She swallowed, trying not to dwell on it, and went back to the castle. She felt sick to the very pit of her stomach.

The beast.

The rats.

The Boggart.

She shook her head, relieved when the wall to the Common Room finally came into sight. "The Parcae" she said, trying very hard not to dwell on the fitting nature of the password to her present situation. She went straight to their usual corner of the Common Room, taking her favourite chair by the fire. Everyone else had arrived back before her – even those who had been behind her – and they looked up as she arrived. Draco looked worried. Parkinson, on the other hand, took one glace at the chocolate bar in Maia's hand and a smug smile settled on her face. Maia dearly wanted to rip it off.

"Are you alright, cousin?"

"Of course."

"You didn't come back."

"I'm perfectly fine."

Tracey came up behind her and started to play with her hair, "Are you..."

Maia stood up, pushed her away and snapped, "I do not have the slightest inclination to talk about it." She stormed up to the dorm room and slammed the door shut behind her. Once inside she threw herself onto her bed, pulling the curtains closed behind her, and buried her head into her pillow. She sobbed herself to sleep, too cross and angry to do anything else.

...

Maia woke up suddenly, once again trashing and flailing, trying to escape the rats. It had been worse this time. There had been some large beast, with yellow eyes, which had been there watching the whole time, licking its lips in anticipation.

She gasped for air before lying back on the bed. A quick glance at her clock told her that she must have slept through until evening. Luckily DADA had been her only exam that day, not that she was in the mood to particularly care anymore. She was still cross and embarrassed. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed, and her stomach rumbled reminding her that she had missed lunch and dinner.

She felt uneasy, but brushed it aside. It was just the hunger, her loss of face from the morning, and the knowledge that all too soon an axe would hit a block of wood and Hermione would be crying at breakfast tomorrow morning.

"House Elf."

There was a 'pop' and an Elf bowed down to her.

"What can Poppy be doing for Miss?"

"I'd like a salmon and goats cheese sandwich, on wholegrain bread and with the crusts taken off, a small side salad with olives and a glass of pumpkin juice, if you don't mind."

"Poppy isn't minding at all Miss." Said the Elf, smiling and bowing again.

"Thank you."

Maia leant back against the pillows, trying to forget the feeling in her stomach. But even after the sandwich, she couldn't settle herself. Something just felt wrong, and as she was upset about the exam, she decided to go and find Remus.

As he was in a relentlessly good mood all the time now, perhaps he would still give her an 'O' even though she had lost a significant number of marks for not completing the final exam. Her essays from the year would have to be taken into consideration...

And she did not want to find out what Aunt Cassiopeia's reaction would be if she got more 'E's this year. Oh Salazar, she was never going to get an 'O' in Transfiguration, and certainly not in Arithmacey, and now maybe not in DADA. What if she got an 'A'? A Black could never be merely 'acceptable'.

No, she had to go and talk to Remus. That was it.

It was fairly late already, and the corridors were largely empty. Pushing the door open to Remus' office, she frowned when she saw that it was deserted. Looking around, something seemed very wrong, and that uneasy feeling in her stomach grew. The chairs and tables were out of line, and one chair even lay on the floor. It was as though Remus had been pushing them out of his way when he left. But why would he do that? And he hadn't tucked his chair in. He always tucked his chair in.

She went to stand behind his desk, looking at the parchments littering the usually tidy workspace. One particularly old and yellow piece lay on top.

She frowned at it, realising that it was a map of Hogwarts, with little dots moving around. There she was, standing behind Remus' desk.

And then a cluster of quick-moving dots caught her eye.

_Sirius Black_

Running along the edge of the parchment, under the Whomping Willow before vanishing.

_Hermione Granger_

_Harry Potter _

Following behind them, disappearing as well.

And then _Remus Lupin_ began to catch up, his dot moving faster and faster.

It wasn't Maia's stomach that hurt then, it was her heart.

Her Boggart _could not_ come true.

...


	93. Play To Win

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Ninety Three_ ~ Play To Win_

Severus Snape looked at the map in horror, the goblet slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor with a clatter. The liquid hissed and scorched the stone where it landed, and Snape doubled over, grabbing at the edge of the desk for support.

His heart almost stopped in his chest.

The stupid boy.

Lily's boy.

With Lily's eyes.

About to die.

Dead at the hand of the Dark Lord's right hand man, if not the Dark Lord's own.

It was just as bad.

To see those eyes again, yet again, with no light in them.

Not again.

Never again.

Everyone had a demon, a Boggart, and his was Lily's eyes.

He straightened up and studied the map again. The Black girl was there as well, another child, another blood traitor, who the blackguard would not hesitate to slay. And Cassiopeia would kill him too if he let it happen.

He'd welcome it though, if had to see those eyes again...

No, he would _not_ let it happen. The Blacks would come, en masse, to save their Heir. And Dumbledore was here, with the Minister, who could send for the Aurors. Now was not the moment to play the hero, now was the moment to play the Slytherin. He would get every man with a wand in England here if he had to, because Black was not going to win.

Not again.

Never again.

...

Maia scrabbled in the dirt, for once in her life not carrying about her dignity.

She could not let Sirius Black win.

It was a matter of principle, and a matter of pride.

She went through the tunnel as quickly as she could, the mud building up behind her nails, her robes tearing and scuffing at her knees. In that moment, she didn't give a flying thestral.

Black had betrayed the House, the family honour, and had threatened them. He had frightened her mother in her own home. She was not going to stand for that. Never. She could feel her anger in her veins in a way she never had before. It was different from when father had died, when she had raged against the world and its unfairness. It was different because now her blood itself boiled, swam with rage, and she wanted blood in return. She wanted Black's blood. It was like a fire. It made her move faster. Nobody threatened her family. She would never let anyone threaten her family.

Family always came first.

Remus was family.

And Hermione mattered.

She breathed heavily, pushing her hair out of her face, ignoring her bruised hands and shins. She didn't care, didn't give them a moment's thought. She gave nothing a moment's thought, beyond the fact that she couldn't let Black win, and couldn't let her Boggart come true.

Or at least part of it.

She hauled her way into an abandoned building, recognising it as the Shrieking Shack. She followed the sound of the voices, treading carefully and holding her wand in the duelling position as Aunt Cassiopeia had shown her.

Her wand seemed to hum with magic; it was almost twitching in her grasp and she smiled. They wanted the same thing. Her wand was tied to her family, her blood. It was tied to the House, and felt her need to protect it too. It _wanted_ to be used. It _wanted _to curse. _It enjoyed it_.

She stopped outside the door, listening to the voices.

_Remus was helping Black?_

Forgetting everything, she flung open the door, pointing her wand at Remus, and then her gaze settled on Black.

"_You_."

...


	94. A Man On His Knees

**In case I didn't mention it before, 'As Black As Night' is almost complete. So, I'll be posting a chapter a day from now on. They are shorter chapters, but they're meant to be snapshot insights into different point of views. Also, it seemed silly, after building up to this for so long, to finish it all in one go! : ) **

**Also, I've had some trouble uploading this chapter, so I'm not sure if you'll have received the update for it or not. But here it is, hopefully posted and available to read! It may also be the case that this chapter is now uploaded twice as chapters 94 and 95. I no longer know!**

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Ninety Four_ ~ A Man on his Knees_

The Dementors were assembled.

The staff were ready.

The Aurors stood shoulder to shoulder.

Even Lucius had stayed to help, though Snape suspected it was for the sake of appearances only.

And the Blacks were on their way.

Even the muggle.

And everyone was waiting, ready for the ambush. The summer night was laden with _something_, though Snape, for all his education - both academic and worldly - could not name it. If he were pushed, he would have said that fate had had a hand in this night. And it reminded him of a potion – dangerous, delicate and with a high probability of going disastrously wrong even if one breathed the wrong way.

But he would not let it come to that.

As he looked around at the assembled mass of witches and wizards spread out around the base of the Willow, Snape knew that they would be enough to take down Black when he re-emerged. They had studied the map and drawn up a plan. Black only had three exits, two on foot and one in the sky. Minerva and some of the stronger fliers were gathered in the air around the shack, ready to take down Black if he tried to escape that way. Another group had surrounded the house on all sides, in case he wanted to get out into Hogsmeade village. He, Dumbledore and the rest were waiting by the Whomping Willow, should Black try and get back into the school grounds.

Waiting for Black at the base of the Whomping Willow, yes, fate had had a hand in this night, and she had bought him full circle. The ever-turning wheel of fortune had turned again. For now he was the predator, and Black and Lupon his prey.

Minister Fudge hurried towards them, followed by a contingent of Aurors. "What are you waiting for? Why aren't you going in?" he cried, beads of sweat pouring from his forehead to his chin.

Snape snarled, but Dumbledore answered first. "As we discussed, Minister, we do not want to shock Black... to make him to anything rash. The children are in grave danger, and the consequences-"

Fudge nodded, pulling his bowler hat from his head and twisting it in his hand. He took a deep breath, "It's just... Madam and Mrs. Black have arrived..."

If Snape didn't know better, he would have sworn Dumbledore smiled. "I imagine Mrs. Black is quite ready to charge in there herself."

Fudge nodded again, not quite able to form words. He glanced over his shoulder and flinched when he saw a cluster of figures emerge from the darkness of night.

...

Cassiopeia, her face grim, held Caroline's arm as she recognised the outline of Albus Dumbledore. "They have to wait."

"This should never have happened!" hissed Caroline, trying to pull away.

Cassiopeia nodded, "I know, but we have to stay calm, and get Maia back."

"I know."

"Good evening, Madam Black, Mrs. Black." Said Dumbledore, walking towards them and bowing as he came to a halt.

"There is _nothing_ good about it," snapped Cassiopeia, despite her earlier words, "except that I will finally get to kill that piece of disloyal filth."

...

More Aurors had arrived now, joining the ranks waiting at the base of the Willow. The House of Black had insisted upon taking the front rank, though Ted had pulled Andromeda behind him. Tonks had caught his eye and nodded at him in understanding, before levelling her own wand at the trunk of the tree.

She was ready.

And she wasn't going to think about Remus being in there, because she knew he was innocent, regardless of what they were saying.

Part of her itched to charge on in as well, but she knew that would only escalate the situation. There was no sign of spellfire from within the house, and the fliers were watching it closely, though careful not to alert Black to their presence. Hopefully, he didn't know he was caught.

Merlin, she didn't want to think what would happen if they set him off.

...

Draco sat in Dumbledore's office, alongside his pale-faced mother. Narcissa twisted her hands into knots, staring out of the window into the dark night. All she could see were silhouettes and shadows.

"She will be alright, won't she?" Draco paused, "Mother?"

Narcissa turned back to him quickly and dropped her hands into her lap, fighting to keep them still. "Pardon, darling?"

"Maia, will she be alright?"

Narcissa nodded once, "Of course."

"Are you sure?"

"I am absolutely positive." She was blinking rapidly. Draco knew she was lying. He didn't like the silence.

"What was Sirius Black like, as a boy?"

Narcissa swallowed, "Handsome... forceful. He always seemed so alive and happy. He drove your Aunt Cassiopeia to distraction with his pranks when she gave him his lessons. You and Maia had nothing on him..." she trailed away and shook herself, "But I ought not to speak fondly of him, and he changed as he grew older. He stayed the same at school – carefree – but he drifted away from the family and would not come back. He grew sullen around us, and rebellious. Of course, Aunt Walburga and Uncle Orion... Well, it's too late now. Far too late."

"When did he join the Dark Lord?"

"Why are you asking me these things?"

"Because I don't like the waiting."

Narcissa sighed, and looked back out the window. "I don't know when he joined." She said softly, "Your father has never told me, although perhaps he never knew."

"But he was in the Inner Circle?"

"And Black was the Dark Lord's right hand man, and a spy."

Draco nodded, "I suppose."

"Maia will be fine. Sirius will not harm his daughter. She is his, and a pureblood."

"She's a blood traitor."

"Don't say such things about your cousin."

"Father said so."

Narccissa closed her eyes, "Your father..." She stopped herself.

"She said that she didn't care anymore, not about blood. She said she never really did, and that she only did because she thought she had to. And that it was wrong to ever act like that, and that she was thoroughly ashamed of it." He caught himself then, forcing himself to swallow down the words spoken in haste. He averted his gaze.

Narcissa paled, "Well, she is still Heir to the House of Black, and you shall not call her a blood traitor."

"Even if father tells me so?"

"_Only _when your father tells you so."

There was a knock at the door and they turned towards it, "Come in." Called Narcissa. Both mother and son pulled their faces back to careful, blank masks as Mrs. Weasley and her children walked in. "Good evening, Mrs. Weasley."

"Good evening, Mrs. Malfoy." Said the red-haired woman, tightening her grip on her daughter's shoulder. Her voice was much colder than usual.

"Have you come to wait on the news as well?"

"Yes, we have."

"It is a most unfortunate affair."

"It is."

They lapsed into silence, sitting at opposite ends of the room.

The Grangers joined them not long after.

...

In a room filled with people and silence, Narcissa returned to staring out of the window.

Maia had her sister's wand, and she prayed to all the Gods there were that Bella's magic would protect her.

_Please keep her safe, Bella._

...

Maia watched as Remus slowly handed their wands back to Hermione, Ron and Harry, pausing before giving his own wand to her, and Black's to Harry. Harry looked at it in disgust.

"It's not mine, I just stole it from a wizarding house."

Harry glared at Black, "So you're a thief as well as a murderer?"

While part of her was worried she might very well be dying that night, she still felt the anger in her blood, and Maia was proud to see the cold look in Harry's eyes, and hate in his voice. He was growing on her, at last. She even had to note that the Weasel wasn't crying, though he his leg had to be broken in at least two places.

"Just let us explain." Said Remus.

Maia arched an eyebrow. "Then start talking."

Black looked at her, "Annie-"

"My name is not Annie. I do not have _a filthy, common name_. My name is Maia Violetta Black and I am named for the honour of my ancestors. If you want to explain, start talking. If you don't, I'll persuade you, and you won't like it."

Remus' face almost sagged, "Maia..."

"Aunt Cassiopeia taught me some interesting curses over the holidays. Would you like me to demonstrate?"

Remus shook his head, but in sadness, not fear. He held up a hand when Sirius started forwards. "We should explain first." He said, to the thin and haggard man.

Maia turned her head away, refusing to look at Black. He did not deserve to look at her.

Hermione stood, pointing her own wand at them. "Professor Lupin, do you honestly think I have never read books for purely theoretical interest? I am quite well-versed in a number of hexes that could make your life rather unpleasant as well, even if they are slightly more legal than Maia's. I strongly suggest you talk as well."

Maia smirked.

And Remus talked.

And then there was silence.

And then:

"_I don't believe you."_

...


	95. The Truth Will Out

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Ninety Five_ ~ The Truth Will Out_

"_I don't believe you."_

Maia turned to Hermione in shock, to find that she was walking across the room to plant herself firmly in front of Maia. She took a deep breath, and raised her wand. "When I said that I was reading books for purely theoretical interest, I was lying. And it might interest you to know, Mr. Black, that I am incredibly intelligent."

Maia looked on – only managing to gawp because she had been trained never to do so – as Hermione titled her head and smirked in a manner worthy of Draco, or Daphne, or herself. Maia wondered just sort of influence they had been having on her for the last few months. Hermione had always been moral and brave, but here, she was downright intimidating. Even as a child.

"The Sorting Hat strongly considered putting me in Ravenclaw, Mr. Black. However, it said that my Gryffindor tendencies won out. Apparently, I have a strong sense of loyalty and morality. How you tricked the Hat, I should dearly love to know. However, it falls to me to inform you, most regretfully, that your story does not quite stand up as yet. And I will not let anyone hurt or threaten my friends. Not Harry, not Ron and not Maia. But to return to my original point, I didn't read those books for theoretical interest, I memorised and practiced the spells within them. So you will now address the following points, or you will regret it."

Sirius blinked, "Annie's your friend?" His voice was dry from lack of use.

"_Maia_ is my friend, and I shan't let you hurt her for it."

"But she called you a Mudblood?"

Hermione's eyes flashed, "And I suppose that filled you with pride?" she snapped, her wand arm trembling with anger, "Because it didn't do that for Maia. She regretted it at the time, and later, and I have forgiven her and neither of us are ashamed anymore. I understand that she and I grew up in different worlds, and while she may have been swayed in her youth by her family, she is old enough now to make up her own mind. And while I may not like her family, I can respect their good points and hope in time that they change, if only for Maia's sake. I have no hope for you. Now, you _will _address the following points."

Harry nodded and stepped forwards, "I've faced Voldemort three times now Black, so you can't scare me. And I'm not going to let you hurt any more people I care about. Now answer Hermione's questions."

Maia watched Harry in shock: of course he would play the hero. It was what he did, what Gryffindor's did. It was her respect for him that took her aback. She could see it in his eyes. He really wasn't afraid.

He was either one of the best people she would ever meet.

Or the most stupid.

It was a shame that, as the only Slytherin in the room, she was the only one who seemed to realise that they didn't stand a chance against two fully grown wizards, and that they were most likely about to die tragic and untimely deaths. Her former bravado was rapidly wearing off. Gryffindors seemed to be immune to these things.

She hoped Aunt Cassiopeia would do a good job of avenging her.

She also wished that her righteous rage had lasted just a little longer, because this feeling of impending doom was incredibly unsettling.

Remus nodded and pulled Sirius back behind him. The thin man was too weak to put up a fight. "Miss. Granger, what are these points?"

"Firstly, it's all well and good to claim that Scabbers is an Animagus. However, he is not on the registered list and unless you are able to reveal him, I am not going to be convinced. Secondly, while Harry's broomstick did not endanger him, the Rememberall you sent Maia was threatening. How do you answer that charge? And if you are innocent of the murder of Harry's parents, what about the death of the McKinnons? And why, just now, did you infer pride that Maia called me a Mudblood?"

Sirius shook his head slowly and began to walk forwards.

"You haven't answered her questions." Said Harry, moving to block his path.

Sirius smiled at him – _so like James_ – although his skeletal features made it look more like a grimace. He stepped around Harry and knelt at the ground, next to Hermione and in front of Maia. The room fell silent. He reached up and tried to caress her face. She jerked away. He sunk back on his haunches. "Who raised you?"

Maia jutted out her chin, "Caroline Black and Marius Black."

Sirius looked up for a moment and frowned, "The Squib?"

The silence lasted only a second longer before Maia began to launch herself at Black, sparks flying unbidden from her wand in rage. Harry grabbed her around her waist to haul her back as she shrieked and howled. "Let me go! Let me go! I'll kill you! You piece of filth! No one insults my father!"

_At least the rage was back. It made this feel as though it was all worth it._

While Harry and Hermione dragged Maia back, Remus grabbed Sirius and roughly pushed him down into a broken armchair. He sent a plume of dust into the air. He buried his head in his hands and didn't move. They could hear his throat rasp and rattle as he dragged air in and out. The room was silent again, and Hermione wrapped her arms around Maia had held her still.

Sirius made no move to talk.

He couldn't.

Remus turned back to the children, "Hermione, I shall answer the questions as best I can, and as quickly as I can because we don't have much time. I can prove that Scabbers is Peter Pettigrew. There is a charm I can perform which will reveal him. I can only infer that it was Peter who betrayed the McKinnons, not Sirius. I know nothing of the Rememberall in question, but I do know that Sirius would never hurt his daughter, or threaten her, just as he would never hurt or threaten Harry. At least not intentionally, although I agree mysterious gifts lack a certain degree of foresight." He expelled a breath of air, an almost-laugh, and ran a hand through his hair. "And the Sirius I know – the friend I have only just got back tonight, and who I have not helped before then – would never, ever be proud to hear his daughter call you a Mudblood. It was a misunderstanding."

"And my father?" said Maia, her voice ice cold.

Sirius finally looked up, his face tired and lined and bleak. "It was only the shock. The Marius Black I knew was struck from the family tree. I was surprised you went to him, that was all. I wondered if it there anyone else, another Marius perhaps."

Maia scoffed, but relaxed slightly in Hermione's arms, and pulled away to stand alone. She straightened her robes and arranged her features. Whatever happened, whatever he said and whatever he did, she was going to get through this like a Black.

Remus smiled at her. "Shall I perform the charm?"

"Will it hurt Scabbers?" said Ron, wincing as he spoke, though still dry-eyed.

"Only if he is indeed Peter Pettigrew."

He raised his wand, Scabbers squirmed, there was a flash of blue light and a sunken, overweight man with a balding head and broken finger-nails was hunched over on the floor. He still scratched and sniffed in a rat-like manner. He looked up.

"Remus! Sirius! My old friends." He made towards them.

Remus and Sirius both stepped up in unison, blocking the path between Pettigrew and the children.

"We are no friends of yours." Spat Sirius.

Maia stepped out and looked at the man, "You were telling the truth, Remus?"

Remus nodded.

The room was still for a few moments, and each of them felt the atmosphere shift, ever-so subtly.

"Good. I shouldn't have liked having to ask Aunt Cassiopeia to brutally murder you." She said, in such a light, sarcastic and distinctly Black-like tone that Remus couldn't help but laugh.

"Wait? You don't mean Aunt Cassiopeia, the muggle and muggleborn-hating harpy who blighted my childhood with Gobbledegook and dancing lessons?" said Sirius, his eyes, for a moment, looking almost young and almost bright and not quite so dead inside.

"I wouldn't know," said Maia stiffly "she certainly wasn't a blight on _my_ childhood."

Harry coughed suspiciously, and Maia rounded on him. "What? She was a rather terrifying teacher. Good, but absolutely terrifying." he said, grinning.

"And she _is_ a crazed blood-purist." Added Ron, who looked rather green by this point.

"She still loves my mother, and she's a muggle."

Remus nodded, "Yes, but having an exception doesn't excuse the rest of her prejudice, does it?"

Maia sighed and patted her hair back into place, "Is this really the best time to be talking about this?" she eyed Pettigrew, "Because I assumed you were about to kill him."

Sirius grinned, showing his cracked and broken teeth, "Indeed we were. Harry, if I could just have my wand back, I should dearly like to commit _one_ of the crimes I was imprisoned for."

Harry held back and looked at the sobbing wretch of the man on the floor. His pause was all Wormtail needed. He scurried over to Ron, "Dear boy, dearest boy, you won't let them kill me, will you? I was a good pet, a good rat."

Ron pulled away as best he could, looking faintly sick.

"If you made a better rat than a man, Peter, you shouldn't boast about it." Snapped Remus.

Pettigrew made his way to Hermione, moving to clutch and the hem of her robes and she tugged them away from his grip. "Clever girl, you won't let them, you won't let them will you?" Her expression was pained.

He turned immediately Maia, and Sirius snatched his wand from Harry and blocked Pettigrew's path. He snarled. Maia stepped out behind him and flicked her wand, sending the former rat flying against the wall. "The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black _does not_ associate with scum." She said imperiously.

Sirius rolled his eyes but gestured to Remus. They raised their wands in unison.

And Harry ran out in front of them, his arms held aloft.

"STOP!"

They froze in horror.

"Harry, this man killed your family. He's the reason you have no parents." Said Remus, the words clearly costing him.

"I know, and he should go to Azkaban. If anyone deserves the Dementors, it's him. But I don't think my dad you want his best friends to become killers for the sake of that rat."

"Oh merciful boy, merciful boy." Pettigrew crawled towards him, sniffing the musty air with his nose, his fingers curling around themselves.

Harry spun round and aimed a sharp kick in the rat's face.

"Don't come near me. Black – _Maia_ – and I are able to agree on _some_ points."

Maia smirked and curtseyed in his direction. She felt sick to her stomach still, her Sight telling her that worse was still to come, but for now, in that moment, she just felt relieved. She could almost have laughed. Here she was, on some ridiculous Gryffindor adventure with the Golden Trio, both Potter and Weasley were being more than bearable and suddenly Sirius Black did not want to kill her, and did not want to destroy her family. The rest of it – whatever was coming – was something that they would deal with then it came. She still wanted to laugh. She wondered if actually she could be going into some sort of shock.

And then it hit her.

"You! You caused my nightmares! You're the rat!"

Sirius turned to her, "While I don't know what you're talking about, does that mean you'll let me kill him? You have an equal say with Harry. He killed your mother and family as well."

Maia flinched. She looked at Harry. "Potter, _Harry_, we both come from Ancient and Noble Houses. We can kill him for his crimes against us. And I'm sure they'll accept his corpse as well as his person in order to free Mr. Black."

Sirius started at being thus addressed, both shocked at the politeness, and that this was his daughter who saw him as a stranger. His heart caught in his throat. Remus saw and laid a hand on his shoulder. "There will be plenty of time." He murmured. Sirius nodded.

"It wouldn't be right."

"It's called revenge."

"It's _called_ cold-blooded murder."

Maia opened her mouth to say something, but Remus interrupted. "We'll take him back. We'll throw him to the Dementors and hope that they Kiss him. But we should leave, it's getting late and both Ron and Sirius need medical attention."

Soon, Pettigrew was tightly bound and gagged. The ropes were spelled so that he was unable to transform. Remus and Harry helped to drag him towards the trap door, while Sirius did his best to support Ron despite his own weakened state, and Maia and Hermione led the way, lighting the tunnel with their wands.

...

Slowly, the light emerged at the end of the tunnel.

Then more light.

Brightly coloured flashes, red and gold.

And the thunderclap screams of spells.

And the sinking, encroaching smell of death and despair and Dementors.

And a broken cry, half drowned under the roar of the ambush:

"_Stop! Stop, that's my daughter!"_

...


	96. The Light Brigade

**I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter Ninety Six_ ~ The Light Brigade _

"HOLD YOUR FIRE!"

Maia and Hermione had huddled together, ducking down at the base of the Willow for cover. Their hands were pressed over their ears, their eyes squeezed shut. The din slowly faded away, and the last flashes of spell fire died out. With sore, tired limbs, the two girls helped each other out of their hiding place.

The moonlight cast shadows across the grounds of Hogwarts, obscuring the figures and faces of the gathered crowd. The silence was heavy. Maia saw her mother – her mother who had yelled – straining against the grasp of an Auror. Her face was twisted, as if in agony, as if caught in the middle of another desperate cry. Maia suddenly felt the chill in the air, whether from the Dementors assembled in the distance or simply from the coolness of the night, she didn't know. It was a chill which crept down her spine, and joined the block of lead which had made a home in her stomach. Her Sight felt something bad encroaching upon them all.

"Miss. Black, Miss. Granger, please walk towards me slowly." Called Professor Dumbledore. He held out a hand towards them. "I will not allow you to be harmed." He beckoned them again.

The two girls shared a glance, and Maia spoke up. "Professor, before we come any closer, there's something you need to know."

The aged headmaster paled in the starlight. "What do I need to know, Miss. Black?"

She paused, "Sirius Black is innocent."

...

"He's Confounded them." Hissed Snape.

Fudge shuffled nervously, "His whole House is here!" he hissed back. Sweat dripped from his brow, "At least ask her if there's proof."

Tonks rolled her eyes, "It doesn't matter either way, just get the children here safely and we can sort it out then."

Dumbledore nodded, "Thank you, Miss. Tonks." He spoke again, more loudly, "Miss. Black, please come here and we shall discuss this."

Hermione stepped forwards, "Not until you promise that you won't attack Mr. Black."

Dumbledore turned his head to Fudge, "The Dementors have been instructed to attack on sight, have they not?"

"The Aurors are there to hold them back." The Minister twisted his bowler hat nervously, rising back and forth on the balls of his feet.

"Very well, Miss. Granger, Mr. Black shall not be harmed."

Carefully, the two girls made their way forwards, followed by the rest of their bedraggled group. They came to a halt in front of the assembled lines of Aurors, teachers and the House of Black.

Peter Pettigrew strained against the ropes. His beady eyes were half wild.

Fudge frowned and pointed at him, "Who's that?"

"Peter Pettigrew." Rasped Sirius. Fudge turned to him, and recoiled in horror.

Dumbledore stepped forwards to examine him. He turned back to the Minister, his eyes losing their customary twinkle, "It's true."

Then Remus cried out in a sudden roar of pain, his back arching. It cracked loudly, the sound reverberating through the air.

And in that instant, the spell fire started again.

...

Remus howled as a volley of curses hit him, and Pettigrew started to thrash violently against his bindings. He was caught by a spell that split them open and took the moment to flee. Maia and Ron both turned at the same time, hurling themselves at him and toppling to the floor.

They landed with a thud, and Ron howled in agony. Still, he clung tightly to Pettigrew's arm with one hand, trying to kick him with his good leg. Maia flung herself as his back, fighting to get a grip at his neck.

Pettigrew thrashed out and spun round, catching the side of Maia's head and sending her flying backwards. She landed on her back, and looked up to see a fully formed werewolf advancing towards her. His yellow eyes gleamed...

Her vision!

Salazar, no!

Tonks flung herself between them, yelling, "RELEGANT LUPUS!"

Her silver curse hit the wolf squarely between the eyes. It turned and ran into the forest, staggering blindly and whimpering.

And then the Dementors glided through the crowd...

_Dad was gone..._

_Dad was gone and was never coming back..._

She saw Harry and Sirius sink to the floor.

_There was nothing, nothing good at all, nothing good that would ever happen again. She turned her head from them, not able to look, as she saw Ron's wand wrestled from him as Pettigrew ran to escape..._

Ron wasn't moving.

The Demeontors were advancing.

_And Dad was gone..._

_Just his grave..._

_His grave and a cold, cold headstone..._

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

No!

Maia didn't turn to see who it was who cried the spell, who it was who drove the darkness away. She rolled over and hauled herself to her feet, blinking rapidly as her vision spun.

She ran after Pettigrew, followed by Tonks and Hermione. She could hear the pounding of more feet following. More cries of 'expecto patronum' filled the air. She felt as though her heart was filled to bursting. She thought it might break. Everything was happening too quickly. The spells and the screams engulfed the night, their sounds echoing in her ringing ears. She couldn't keep track of it. Couldn't understand how it had come to this.

She pushed her legs faster and grabbed the back of Pettiegrew's filthy cloak.

He spun round, his closed fist smacking into her jaw. She felt her neck snap round. She felt herself fall back to the ground again as the world seemed to shift out of focus. And then she heard cries of 'no', and a piercing scream, and more feet running feet, and then nothingness...

...


	97. The Beginning And The End

**I do not own Harry Potter**

**I can't believe it, but this is the last chapter of 'As Black as Night'. All that's left after this is the trailer to 'Bright Star', which I'll post that tomorrow. There will be a short break, while I concentrate on real life (which is rather busy at the moment) and try and get ahead on the next volume of this story by a few more chapters before I start posting. Please check back to see when it goes up, or just add me to author alerts. **

**So, here you have it...**

Chapter Ninety Seven_ ~ The Beginning And The End_

Maia blinked as a white and bright world slowly came into focus. A cool hand pressed her back down into the pillows. The light hurt and she closed her eyes again.

"Be careful, darling."

_Her mother._

A strained and worried voice, "Do you think she's alright?"

_Aunt Narcissa._

Sharp and clipped tones, "If she is, she most certainly won't be by the times I'm finished with her! I want to know _exactly_ what she thought she was doing!"

_Aunt Cassiopeia._

Maia smiled to herself – though it looked more like a grimace – everything was fine.

Then she remembered the scream, that awful, piercing scream. That awful, piercing, haunting scream. She could still hear it, feel it, even now.

She took a few deep breaths and forced her eyes open.

Aunt Narcissa's smooth hand came to rest on her forehead, "At least she's lost her fever."

Maia tried to talk, but her throat felt like parchment. She swallowed, but even that hurt. Her voice sounded thin, "Who screamed?"

Madam Pomfrey bustled over, fussing around her.

"Who screamed?"

"Just one moment, Miss. Black." She clucked.

"Who screamed?"

"You had a very nasty blow to the head. That scumbag really hit you before he escaped-"

"-he escaped?"

The Matron waved her hand at her, "-and you caught your head on a stone when you landed. I just need to check you over."

She kept waving her wand and tutted to herself.

"Who screamed?"

"The swelling has reduced from your potion-induced rest. You need to stay here for observation for _at least_ the next forty eight hours and I'll need to wake you up check on you every two if you go to sleep again."

"Who screamed?"

The Matron's eyes softened, "I shall allow your family to explain. Please try to rest, Miss. Black, and I'll be back in two hours."

Maia opened her mouth again, but Aunt Cassiopeia raised her hand, "Miss. Granger screamed."

Maia blanched. She held out her hand for the tray, but only retched. Her stomach was empty. Still, her hands were shaking as she passed the tray back to her mother.

Cassiopeia waited a moment, watching her keenly, before she continued, "Pettigrew hit her with a rather nasty Dark spell, in order to provide a distraction for his escape. He transformed into a rat and vanished."

Maia shook her head and winced in pain, "Is Hermione alright?"

There was a pause.

Aunt Narcissa stroked her hair.

"Hermione?"

Her mother spoke softly, "She was transferred to St. Mungo's within an hour of the escape. And, mercifully, the Healers declared her condition stable about ten hours ago. She should make a full recovery."

"Should? Can I see her?"

"Not yet, but we'll take you as soon as you're better and school's finished."

Maia wanted to nod, or say something, but she lay back against the pillows to fight off another wave of nausea.

"And what else did I miss?"

"Mr. Potter produced a rather astounding Patronus, and he, Professor Snape and some of the Aurors who were not in pursuit of that rat were successfully able to drive away the Dementors and regain control of them." Cassiopeia paused to smirk nastily, "I'm currently seeing to the sackings of the Aurors who were not able to control them initially."

"Anyway, Headmaster Dumbledore and I attended to the needs of the weakened Sirius Black, while Healer Tonks and Cousin Andromeda attended to Mr. Weasely. Your mother wept over you like the sentimental fool that she is."

Maia looked to her mother and smiled weakly.

"Did I miss anything else? How long was I out for?"

"You've been asleep for just over a day." Said Caroline, smiling at her and reaching out for her hand.

"Am I in trouble?"

"Lots." Snapped Cassiopeia.

Maia swallowed again.

Narcissa stroked her hair, "Do you want to know anything else, darling?"

"How is Remus?"

Caroline shook her head, meeting Narcissa's gaze.

"He's fine. He's perfectly well and safe."

"I'm not cross with him. It wasn't his fault."

"We know. We aren't cross with him either."

"Speak for yourselves." Snarled Cassiopeia.

Caroline glared at her. "Not. Now."

Cassiopeia turned and stormed out of the room. The doors slammed shut behind her, and Maia winced at the sudden loud noise.

"I didn't mean for it to get quite so out of hand. I don't even know how it all got so out of hand."

"Don't worry, we'll talk about it later. You need to rest first. Now isn't the time."

Maia nodded, and stopped abruptly when another sharp pain shot through her head.

"But Maia, there's something else... there's someone here who wants to see to you."

"Who?"

"Sirius Black. They wanted to transfer him with Hermione, but he's been refusing to leave until he could speak to you."

Maia swallowed thickly.

"Would you like to speak to him?"

She chewed her lips, waiting, then nodded once. The pain was just as sharp.

"Would you like some privacy?"

Another pause.

"Perhaps?"

Caroline smiled, "We'll both just be on the other side of the room. He's doing well and can walk over and sit with you for a while. Are you alright with that?"

"Yes, yes I am."

"Alright, we'll go and get him."

Maia closed her eyes, listening as they left. She breathed deeply as she heard a more laboured set of footsteps approach.

She opened her eyes to see Sirius Black again.

"Hello."

He swallowed, "Hello." He was still gaunt, but his skin looked less yellow, and his matted hair was washed and clean. His tattered prison robes had been exchanged for clean hospital ones.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine." He paused, "And you?"

"Fine."

"Your head?"

"It's fine."

He nodded. "It's alright if you don't know what to say to me."

"Thank you."

"I do have something that I wanted to say to you, if you don't mind."

Maia nodded, cautiously.

"You were upset by the Rememberall. Your friend said so in the shack."

His voice was still strained and raspy from lack of use, but he seemed determined to carry on. Maia nodded her agreement.

"They've explained why to me, since then. I wanted to tell you that I never interfered with your memory." He had to stop. "I gave you that Rememberall for a different reason." This time, he had to stop because his hands were shaking. His voice was weak, but not from his poor condition. His lips quivered.

"Marlene gave me that Rememberall on Valentine's Day in our seventh year. She said... she said it was so I would never forget how much she loved me, and I her. It was the sort of odd present only she would come up with. I carried it with me every day, until... until the day she died. I locked it in my vault in Gringotts then. I couldn't... I couldn't bear to look at it." He chocked. "I gave it to you, not to scare you, or to make you think I knew something, or even that you owed me anything, even your memories. The only message I wanted to send, could send, was that I loved you, that we both loved you, and that we always would." He stopped and shook his head, "I thought... I just wanted you to know... I..."

Maia's own hands shook, and Sirius grasped them in his own, tightly. She looked down at them and swallowed, unsure. She didn't pull away. She closed her eyes, picturing Marius. He was smiling at her, and nodding.

"Family comes first?"

Sirius smiled.

"Family _always_ comes first."

_Fin._

...


	98. The Brightest Star' Preview

**I do not own Harry Potter**

_**PART TWO: BRIGHT STAR**_

_**The Thirteen Rules of the House of Black**_

_**You are always in charge.**_

Cassiopeia's eyes blazed, "I will bow down to no man, no wizard, no being,

no beast. No man will rule over me. No man will command me. And no man, no man on earth, will intimidate me!"

"Times have changed."

"THEY HAVE NOT CHANGED FOR ME!"

_**Decorum at all times.**_

In time they spun, her hand in his, as the trail of her dress swept out behind her, and their feet, all the feet of all the dancers, thumped sharply down on the floor in time with each other and the beat of the music. In time with the slow, steady beat of her heart as the world seemed to slow down around her.

And she couldn't take her eyes from his.

And everything she saw there.

And there was nothing she could do, not here, not now.

Not ever.

_**Never apologise or admit that you are wrong, unless it is in your best interests to do so.**_

"I'm so sorry, Nymphadora."

She didn't look up. She didn't respond at all, but continued to stare blankly ahead. At the brick wall in the middle of her life.

"For what it's worth, I really, truly mean it. This time I do."

_**It's not the truth that matters, but the appearance that counts.**_

Lucius pulled the mask over his face.

Who was he?

How many masks did he wear these days?

Because, by Salazar, he no longer knew. The only thing he knew, or wanted, or cared for was Narcissa. And he would anything for her.

Anything.

Even this.

_**Never show fear or weakness.**_

Sirius ran through the forest, wand in hand, crying out as he went. His voice desperate, strangled.

"MAIA!"

_**Never bow down to another.**_

All of them sunk to their knees.

One by one.

Maia wished she could be strong. Wished she could stay tall, standing, defiant.

Aunt Cassiopeia would. Maia knew she would.

Maia wished she were her.

Although, as her knees hit the cold floor, she was glad that her aunt was far away, far away and safe.

But she wished she could have been the bravest, have been the one to go down last. That would, at least, have been something.

_**Do not admit to allow another to appear more knowledgeable than yourself.**_

Cassiopeia and Cygnus stared at each other.

"It would seem we have reached an impasse."

"It would seem so."

"I want my information."

"And I want my wife."

_**Always pursue your revenge.**_

It was just them, alone, in the long, dark corridor. Where the others were, Maia no longer knew. She had lost track of them, lost track of everything.

"I know what you did."

"Do you now?"

She tilted her head back and stuck out her chin. "Nobody threatens my mother."

"Oh, so young, so brave, so sure. Aren't you just waiting for it all to come crashing down around you?"

"I'll make you regret it. All of it. Everything."

_**Never turn your back on your family.**_

"She is still out sister. She is still our family."

"She is no sister of mine!"

"You're forgetting the ninth rule."

"Why should I remember one, when she broke them all?"

Her eyes were wild, streaming with tears, her face twisted, almost torn, like her heart, which had long been broken.

_**Never turn your back on an enemy.**_

"NO!"

She turned and ran.

Laughter rang out behind her.

She heard Harry scream.

Felt Remus try to grab her.

Felt the axis of her world snap in two.

_**The only people who value modesty are those who have nothing to be proud of.**_

The quill scratched, the writing pointed, the strokes deliberate, strong, unrelenting.

_I must not tell lies._

The writing was neat, tidy. Her back was straight, rigid, unbending. She would not give and each. Never.

_I must hold my tongue_.

Each muscle was tense, wound up like a coil, ready to snap, ready to spring, except that he wouldn't give her the satisfaction. He wouldn't snap, he'd kill her.

_I must control my temper._

Every word cut through him, like a blade, a knife, not through his arm, but his heart.

_I must not behave like a madman._

The hand glided across the page, line after line filled with perfect cursive.

_I must learn my place._

_**Morality is for people with no interests to protect.**_

He shook his head and looked away, up at the stars.

"I really thought you were better than that. Merlin, I know you're better than that, if only you'd let yourself see it."

"I... I can't possibly answer that."

_**All Blacks have a temper, only lose it to control people, not because you can't control yourself.**_

"I'LL KILL YOU. YOU MURDERING WITCH, I'LL KILL YOU!"

...


End file.
